Love's Curse
by AthenaandArtemis
Summary: The Dark Lord has always been the subject of both adoration and fear from his followers. But perhaps this new Death Eater is a bit more than he can handle. Not good with summaries, but mostly the point
1. Chapter 1

"Oh gods, I'm so sorry!" the mysterious girl exclaimed, bending down to pick up Severus's books, which he'd dropped when she rammed into him in the hall on his way to class.

He shook his head, taking it back. "No trouble."

"I was in a hurry…I should've been paying attention but…Oh, this is yours." She handed him a notebook then snatched it back. "No, wait…that one's mine. This one is yours…" she handed him the other one, which she'd accidentally tucked in with her own books. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

"It's alright, really."

"Alize," she said by way of introduction, thrusting her hand out toward him. But before he could shake it, she startled suddenly, jumping away from him with a curse and rushing around the corner. As she ducked out of sight, he saw Sirius Black leaving the classroom she had just been in, pausing outside the door to look around.

He raised a brow, looking after her quizzically before heading off to class. That had been a bit odd. More than a bit actually. More like downright strange. She'd seemed to be completely frantic to get away from the classroom just seconds before Sirius Black had exited it. What was that about? Though he honestly hated Sirius Black with a passion, he knew most women would fall at his feet…or skip that and fall right into his bed. Severus scowled, thinking of that beautiful girl, then his lips raised in a small smile. She seemed not to like Sirius Black. And she was nice…and very pretty. More than pretty. She'd been stunning, though a bit distracted. He couldn't quite shake the encounter as he sat down in his seat and pulled out his notebook, flipping it open as he prepared for the beginning of class. As he looked down at it, he felt his smile grow just a bit bigger. She had given him her own notebook after all and the prettiest handwriting he'd ever seen stared up at him from the first page.

Property of Alize B. Warren.

Potions class with Professor Slughorn, in the dungeons.

As his eyes scanned over the words again and again, he realized with a jolt that this was the first time he'd smiled in a very long time. He had so very little to be happy about lately…but a few seconds with a beautiful, clumsy stranger and a notebook full of her pretty handwriting had brought him out of his perpetually bad mood. His smile widened as another thought struck him. He had to bring it back… He absently flipped through the notebook as he sat there, wondering about the girl. She'd taken careful notes, adding her own thoughts to Professor's lesson. She was obviously a good student and quite skilled in that subject in particular. He paused at one entry, chuckling to himself.

Why the fuck is the idiot bugging me?

Did this perhaps have something to do with how she'd acted around Black? The next page was a long line of short responses to whatever someone had been saying to her.

Leave me alone.

I'm trying to work here, moron.

You're wasting your time.

No, I will absolutely not.

Do your own work, asshole.

I don't care.

Fuck you. You're an idiot. Stop wasting my time, it's not going to happen.

Ever.

He found himself grinning at her spunk, such pretty handwriting, so determined… Throughout the class, he kept looking back down at the pages in front of him, tracing his fingers over the letters now and again. When the bell rang he was surprised. He hadn't thought that much time had passed.

He gathered his things up, wondering where he'd find her. He decided to check the library first, not knowing where else to look. He hadn't noticed what house she was in, but she was definitely not Slytherin. He was lucky enough to run into her on the way. But she wasn't alone. Sirius Black stood in front of her, pressing her up against a wall. She didn't seem pleased at all. In fact, she held his fingers bent all the way back, glaring up at him as he groaned in pain, trying and failing to pull away.

"You touch me with that goddam hand one more time and I will break it off," she spit out, obviously enraged.

"You see, love, that is an impossibility…you're much too intriguing a woman to be left alone."

"Black, don't you have other women to terrorize?"

"No one asked _you_, Snivellus. And a gem such as this one must be snatched up by someone who can appreciate its value."

"Oh my gods, are you really just that stupid?" the girl exclaimed, shoving him away. "I don't want you. What part of that can you not comprehend, hmm? I as in me, Alize Belinda Warren, Hogwarts's first American student. Don't as in do not, will not, never will, _ever _as long as I shall breathe. Want as in crave or desire. You, as in Sirius Black, arrogant amorous asshole idiot. I. Don't. Want. You."

"I want you too, my lovely."

Severus shook his head in disgust. "You gave me the wrong notebook, Alize…you wouldn't happen to have mine with you, would you? It's alright if you don't…I can get it later…I'm Severus, by the way. Severus Snape."

"I have it right here, actually." She went digging in her robes, pulling out several small objects before finally locating his notebook. "You wouldn't happen to know how to get rid of him, would you?" she asked as she handed it over.

"He does happen to despise me…perhaps if we left together…"

Sirius laughed. "Isn't that cute? Little Snivellus thinks he has a chance with her…Like _anyone_ would like _you_…"

"Fuck off, Black."

"Excuse me," Alize said, offended. "I happen to think he's a fuck of a lot better than _you_."

"You haven't given me a chance…"

"Why would I give you a chance when you introduced yourself by sticking your fucking fingers up my skirt?"

"I'm sorry but you were practically begging for it…Do you have any idea what those legs do to me?"

"My, you sound like a gentleman," Severus muttered, suddenly he was against the wall as James Potter came from behind, his wand out.

"Was he bothering you, Snuffles?"

"No, more like a pest, but I do believe he was antagonizing this lovely lady."

"What the fuck are you doing?" she demanded of James. "If anyone should be pinned to the wall, it would be _him_." She whipped her wand out, pointing it at Sirius and suddenly he was pressed against the wall as well.

"Why would you do that?" He dropped Severus unceremoniously to the ground. "Are you defending this git?"

"Are you defending this one?" she countered, lifting Sirius higher up off the ground. "Because he was the one antagonizing me."

James shrugged. "That's who he is…"

"Great friend, mate, really."

"Keep the asshole away from me," Alize said, throwing Sirius to the floor. She stepped over his crumpled body, took Severus's hand, and hurried away with him in tow.

"Sorry you had to deal with him…"

"He has to be the most annoying man I have _ever_ met." She stalked off toward the library, where he'd been headed to find her.

"I agree. It was truly nice to meet you, Alize."

"And you too, Severus. I'm so sorry about mixing up our notebooks."

"No, it's alright." He handed her hers, smiling. She took it and tucked it into her robe.

"You seemed like you were in a hurry to get somewhere. I didn't sidetrack you, did I?"

"Not at all…"

"Good." She slowed down a bit, less concerned about being ambushed again now that they were further away. She released him. "Thank you for coming to my defense."  
"I couldn't just leave you…"

"You have no idea what it's like living with that…that…_beast_. I have never encountered such sheer cockiness in my life. It's my first fucking day of class, pardon my language if you please, and he slides his hand under my skirt beneath the desk without even a "Hello, how are you? I'm Sirius Black a giant fucking dick face"."

He couldn't help but laugh. "I see your problem."

She let out a hard, long suffering sigh. "I hate the idiot. I really do."

"I share the sentiment."

"Anyway…" the further she got away the more she seemed to relax. "I hope you won't mind that I flipped through your notebook."

"Oh…no that's alright. I kind of did the same to yours."

"Your notes are very detailed." She smiled. "I copied some…"

"Thank you…or…you're welcome…or both…I suppose…" He smiled.

"Definitely very helpful."

"I do try."

"It was very nice meeting you, Severus," she said, pausing outside the library doors. "I do hope I'll see you again."

"I…I do, too. Actually I was…just headed this way…"

"Really? Would you like to sit with me then?"

"If you don't mind."

"Not at all." She moved into the library, then slipped into a chair at one of the small, two people tables.

He sat across from her, pulling out his Potions book. He watched as she did the same. She sat back in her seat, curling up with her legs beneath her as she leaned over the table, obviously engrossed in what she was reading.

He watched her over the top of his book unable to concentrate on anything but her. He hadn't known it was possible for someone to be so damn beautiful. She had to be a goddess in human form because her features were literally flawless. She had big eyes the color of liquid jade with streaks of baby blue breathing through. Her nose was dainty and perfectly straight, smattered with a very fine dusting of golden freckles. Her lips were captivating. They were full and luscious and the color of delicious red apple. He couldn't help but long to kiss those lips, and tangle his hands in her long red curls. But Sirius and James's words came back to taunt him. It was true that nobody wanted to be with him. In fact, no one even wanted to be around him. His best friend since childhood had abandoned him last summer after a particularly nasty bullying incident. And now he had no one. He'd been so alone for so long. Why did he think that he was worthy enough to even be in this lovely woman's presence? He was a fool but he couldn't bring himself to walk away. He looked away, down at his book, trying to keep focused on anything but her.

"Wrong," he heard her whisper in that enchanting voice. "All wrong."

"Hmm?" He looked back up.

"Okay, I know this potion is a difficult one to brew," she showed him the page she was reading. "But how fucking hard is it to write a recipe down correctly?"

He smiled. "You're really good. Not a lot of people would've noticed that…"

"How could I not? This mistake makes it ten times harder to brew."

"I made notes in mine…" He flipped his book to the same page, showing her the changes he'd made to the recipe. A beautiful smile spread across her lips as she read.

"I made the same ones." She gestured to the pretty handwriting down the side of the page.

He chuckled. "We're a lot more alike than I thought…"

"Scary isn't it?" She lowered her book to the table, flipping to the next page.

"A bit…"

She reached into her pocket and withdrew a pen, using it to write across her book instead of a quill. As she worked, she grew more and more frustrated with her hair, which fell over her shoulders and obscured the page. She kept restlessly tossing the strands back over her shoulders or tucking them behind her ears.

He smiled, setting his book on the table. After a while she lost all patience with the long locks. She thrust her hand into her pocket and withdrew a headband, using it to shove her hair back away from her face. He stood, moving his chair closer. "What kinds of potions have you brewed as of yet?" Potions was a safe subject, he thought.

"Well…" she looked up at him, biting her lip. "All of them…"

"_All_ of them?"

"Well…every one that's in this book, at least. Actually, I…Well I'll show you…" She started flipping through the book.

He smiled. "It's just…I've done most…but _all_? That's amazing…"

"I had a lot of free time," she said, her voice suddenly a bit dark. She finally reached the page she was searching for and flipped the book to show him. He recognized the section, it was dedicated to lycanthropy. The potion she'd flipped to was called Lupine, a fairly new potion that stripped away a werewolf's pain. She pointed to the name of the alchemist who had discovered it. Alize B. Warren.

"_You_ created that potion…?"

"And this one." She flipped the next page to the potion Sirian, which was another brand new potion that kept a werewolf in control of his consciousness while turned, making them no more dangerous than large dogs.

"Wow…that's _amazing_…"

"Thank you…But I was just trying to help a friend when I made i- Oh shit!" She ducked beneath the table as the Marauders entered the library. He smiled, but the smile faded quickly as they approached him.

"What the fuck, Snivellus? You want _another _incident like what happened with Lily? You should know better by now."

"Fuck off, Black."

"I'm not here," Alize whispered, looking up at him from between his legs. She put her finger to her lips and slowly started to crawl out from under the table, staying low to the ground.

He smothered a grin.

"I saw you two leave together. Where'd she go?"

"Leave him alone, mate. It's not like it's his fault you're an ass sometimes," Remus said, without looking up from his book. Alize was out from beneath the table, but she stuck to the floor. The only one who would see her without leaning over the table and looking directly down at her would be Lupin, who was extremely tall. But his nose was buried in his book and she moved off toward the library stacks slowly without being seen.

"How am I supposed to know where she went?"

"I saw you."

"She's Gryffindor, isn't she? Perhaps she went to the common room."

"I know all about how you like Gryffindors, huh, Snivelly?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that. I'm Slytherin. I despise Gryffindors, of course." He watched him coolly turning back to his book. Alize was right next to the stacks at this point. She paused only long enough to wave at him before turning the corner and disappearing, a small flash of her long red hair all that could be seen before she vanished completely. He smiled, careful to hide where he was looking.

Pettigrew moved next to him. "That's hers, alright, Padfoot…she was here…"

Severus cursed under his breath. She'd left her potions text book on the table, flipped open to the Sirian potion. Not only was her name clearly displayed as the inventor of the potion, she'd written several notes from other potions in the margins and her gorgeous handwriting was unmistakable.

"Hey, Moony…Have you seen this?" Sirius picked up the book, showing Lupin the potion.

"What? Oh…I…she made that?" Remus completely forgot about the book he'd been reading, lowering it to his side to examine the one thrust into his face.

"If you're finished with me…" He stood, walking out of the library, quickly. He didn't see Alize as he hurried away. He wondered if she was still stuck in the library, wandering the stacks until the Marauders left so she could leave herself.

He bit his lip, feeling a little guilty for leaving her.

"Don't worry a bit, Padfoot. You'll get her. I'll help you."

"Leave her alone. I mean it…she deserves better… she's a _hero_…"

"Moony…honestly? Now _you're_ falling for her."

"Hardly…she's a nice person, you know…a very nice person…who I happen to admire for her brilliance…and I know she doesn't appreciate your interest, Sirius, so leave her alone."

Sirius laughed, a loud barking sound. "That wouldn't be fair to her. And that wouldn't be right. James chased Lily for six years before she said yes. I can't give up after a day."

"It's not giving up. It's admitting defeat. You'll just make her hate you. And by default, me…"

"Oh, thank you for your worry, Moony…always so selfless…"

"Sometimes I really can't stand you guys…I'm going to find a new book…" He wandered away into the stacks of books. As he walked up and down the shelves, he came across the very woman they'd been searching for earlier. She was curled up on the floor in the corner with a book open in her lap.

"Hey…" He approached her, smiling. She slammed her book shut with a look of panic, swiftly rising to her feet and clutching the red leather tome in front of her as if bracing for an assault. "Don't worry…he may be my friend, but I know how much of an asshole he is…"

She slowly lowered her book, cautiously lowering her guard as well. "Hi, then…"

"I'm Remus Lupin…" He held out his hand. "You…you made Sirian and Lupine…? Sorry I just saw it in the potion book and…it's really nice to meet you."

"Alize Warren." She shook his hand, hers warm and soft.

"I'm sorry about Sirius. When he decides he wants something…it's kind of hard to stop him…"

"Hey, Moony, we're leaving!" he heard Sirius shout.

"Put a leash on him," she said with a scowl. "And add a muzzle for good measure."

"We did once…" he grinned. "For a dare."

Her own bright smile answered his and she bit her lip before saying, "So have I."

"Really? You learn something new every day…I'm sure you could pull off that look."

"Are you kidding? I was the best looking person wearing a collar and leash in history. Totally."

"I believe it." He shifted on his feet, looking around. "I should…probably go catch up with them…but I don't feel like leaving yet."

"He's not going to come looking for you, is he?"

"No. Probably not." He stuck his hand in his pocket.

"Then feel free to stay. But if I hear him coming toward me I'm gone. Poof. Where'd she go? You'll never know…"

He laughed, leaning back against the shelf. "You don't have to worry, love. Promise."

"You seem trust worthy enough." She sat back down on the floor and flipped her book open again, settling it on her knees but still looking up at him.

He pulled out a roll of parchment. "I'll warn you long before he gets here…" he murmured, unrolling it and setting it beside him as he sat across from her, pulling his own book out.

"I appreciate it." She leaned back against the wall behind her and lowered her head to read, twirling a lock of her long, red curls around her finger.

He found that he could not even begin to focus on his book, which he had actually found quite interesting, with her right there, she was too intriguing. He glanced at the parchment, every few minutes then immediately looked back to her face. Against his will, his mind conjured the image of the extremely beautiful woman wearing a collar with a leash attached. He couldn't help but lick his lip, the image too sensual for words. His eyes began to stray from her face to survey her body, curled around her book. Her face wasn't the only part of her that was stunning. She had long legs, skin as pale as snow, slender arms, and large breasts that strained her shirt. His book slipped from his hands, sliding to the floor, unnoticed, as he continued to ogle her then he grabbed his book, blushing, slightly ashamed as he forced himself to stare uncomprehendingly at the page before him. Of all the women he'd seen Sirius develop an "interest" for, she was the most beautiful. In fact, she was probably the most beautiful woman in history. She was definitely the sexiest. Even sitting there reading in her uniform, her body positively screamed "Want me…Need me…Fuck me…Please…" And God did he want to do just that…He blushed deeper. He couldn't keep himself occupied for long before he was openly staring again. He glanced at the parchment open beside him quickly, so that he could watch her more. To his horror, he saw Sirius was only two stacks away and moving swiftly toward them.

"Uh…hey, Alize, Sirius is…is coming," he murmured.

"What? Shit!" She leapt to her feet, abandoning her book on the ground and raced off out of the stacks…right into Sirius.

"Hello, lovely. I knew you'd want to see me. What a lucky coincidence. I was merely looking for my friend." He grinned, pulling her close against him. "But he can wait."

"Let go of me," she said stiffly.

"You came onto me…mm…I like the sound of that…"

"Come on, Sirius, let her go…you don't want another detention two days into the year…"

"She wants me, she just won't admit it."

"Honestly, we all get a little annoyed by you time to time but I don't think she likes you at all…"

"What part of 'don't touch me' don't you understand?" Her wand was whipped from her robe in seconds and pressed into his neck. As he stood there, he felt his tie slowly begin to constrict around his throat.

His arm dropped from around her as he clutched his tie. "Damn…Bitch…"

Remus stepped closer with a sigh, removing the spell. "You should really know better, Sirius. She isn't a slut like _your_ girls…"

"Who said I only go for sluts, really?"

"You did…"

"I'm glad you got that out of your system," Alize said, tucking her wand away. "_Now _will you leave me the fuck alone?"

"Probably not, you're irresistible."

"I'm so done with this." She picked up her discarded book and straightened. When she was standing upright again she slapped him across the face with the book with all her might, leaving behind a dark red mark on his cheek before marching away.

He watched her walk away, still smiling as he rubbed his face. Remus glared at him silently, picking up his book and map. "Thank you, asshole. That was very kind of you."

James stood outside the library, flipping through his _Quidditch through the Ages_ copy. He looked up to see Alize Warren march past, obviously upset, and he shook his head, turning back to his book. "Dumbass," he muttered before he realized the next page had a picture that looked very near identical to the girl that had just stormed past. The page was titled…no way…Alize Warren…wow…so she was more than just a pretty face, huh? Much more apparently. Flipping through the book he found 35 pages dedicated to her and how she had completely reinvented Quidditch in America. He was captivated by the moving pictures of some of the acrobatic moves she'd incorporated into her gameplay. It was absolutely amazing…half of the moves he'd never even seen before. God he hoped she joined the team. He wandered around, reading and rereading the pages about Alize. Eventually he walked off to the Quidditch pitch to do some flying alone. But he wasn't the only one there. The girl he'd been reading about already occupied the pitch. She was dressed only in a tight white tank top and tiny black shorts, her hair in a ponytail at the back of her head. She was using her broom to exercise, hanging on by her knees and doing sit ups. Every move called attention the best parts of her…which was everything. She was incredibly sexy…even more beautiful than Lily and he'd always thought Lily was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts. He smiled. God he'd get himself into trouble like this… but he couldn't help it. He agreed with Sirius. She _was _irresistible. He walked onto the pitch, still watching her, intrigued. Her pale skin was drenched in sweat and her red lips moved as she counted. Every time she laid flat, perpendicular to the ground, her long hair brushed the grass. He must have a thing for red heads…But he was pretty sure _anyone_ would have a thing for her. He swallowed hard, his eyes taking in every detail at once. Her large breasts practically bursting out of that top, bouncing as she moved. Flat stomach that contracted as she pulled herself up onto the broom. Her long, well-shaped legs. And that beautiful face, that gorgeous hair the color of cherries.

"Don't even bother trying out. You'd never make it," he joked with a grin.

"I dunno," she said, slightly breathless. She didn't even bother to pause in her work out, nor did she lose count. "I was told I don't even have to try out to get on the team."

"I don't remember saying that…and I'm captain…all decisions go through me or Professor McGonagall, and if she found someone, she'd tell me…" His eyes followed her bouncing breasts as she continued to work.

"It was the first thing she said to me when I was sorted into Gryffindor." As she moved, her wand slipped from the waistband of her tiny shorts and he realized she'd been using it to play music. A dark, pounding song.

"I think I've read about you somewhere…" He picked up her wand, handing it to her. "Welcome to the team. New Beaters are always welcome. Especially ones with such a good…physique."

She tucked it back into her waistband before continuing her work out. "I didn't say I wanted to be on."

"But you _have_ to…you're brilliant. I've never seen anyone with skills like yours. We'd be sure to win…"

"I'm sure you'll be fine without me." She swung herself up onto the broom handle, straddling it.

"I doubt it, we've been on a bit of a losing streak lately…and you'd be an amazing addition to the team…I'll even let you choose your partner…anyone…"

She raised a brow, lifting up into the air and then swinging down so she was hanging upside down, her face inches from his. "You've never actually seen me fly."

"I've seen enough." He held up _Quidditch through the Ages_. "The book is fucking dedicated to you for your skill and ability."

"That doesn't mean anything." She lowered her broom so her hands were pressing into the grass, then released her hold on the handle so she tumbled gracefully to the ground, landing fluidly on her feet.

"You're showing off…I could do that if I tried…"

"Could you?" She sent her broom away, choosing instead to demonstrate more of the acrobatic abilities she'd gathered from her years of dancing and gymnastics. He definitely couldn't do any of those.

"Maybe…if I had a lot of practice time…" he mumbled, smiling. She straightened, reaching for her wand and silencing the music. Then she sank down into the grass, lying flat on her back, spread eagled, panting. He sat beside her. "So what do you say? Honestly I'd pay you, but apparently that's unethical."

"I don't need any money."

"That's a yes, right?"

"That's a 'when your asshole friend leaves me the fuck alone'."

"Right…um…that's…hard to do…see…he's determined…so…I don't know if there's anything I can do…but anything else…"

She sighed. "I could come to one practice and see how much you need me. But that's as much as I'll promise."

"Thank you…and I'll do my best to keep him away from you…"

"Thank you." She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her arms. The strands of her long, sweat damp ponytail stuck to her cheeks, the back of her neck, her tank top, her hips, curling around her buttocks to cling to the back of her thighs.

He licked his lips. "Anything for the heroine of my team..." he breathed.

She chuckled, the sound muffled by her arms. She was prettier than Lily, obviously more intelligent, more intriguing, her interests suited his more than Lily's did… What the fuck was wrong with him? He'd been chasing Lily for six years, he'd been ecstatic when she finally gave in, and he was quite happy with his relationship. But Alize was…she was…_perfection_. And Lily certainly had her flaws…

Flaws were good, he told himself. Lily was good. Lily was lovely…His…He shouldn't be daydreaming about other women…but as long as he didn't do anything about it…it couldn't hurt… His eyes roamed over Alize's body again. She was the embodiment of desire, the personification of lust, sex made palpable, touchable.

God he hoped Lily didn't see him ogling her like this…not that she was really the jealous type but still…

He sat back, setting his book next to him with his broom. He had to keep himself from looking at her. But it was so damn _hard_. Her pale skin, her vibrant hair, her sexier than should be legal body were all designed to keep all eyes on her. He forced himself to stand. "See you at practice next week…" Even after he said it, he couldn't make himself move.

She raised one small hand and gave him a curt wave before returning to lying there, cooling off. He grabbed up his things, turning on his heels and rushing off before he lost all resolve.

"Are you alright?" The beautiful redhead seemingly asleep on the Quidditch pitch raised her head to look up at him with the loveliest eyes he had ever seen.

"Fine. Sorry…am I in the way?" She sat up, pushing her damp hair over her shoulder.

"Not at all…continue on…you look like you had a tough go of it…I don't mind…I'll be up there anyway…"

"Is it really that obvious?" she asked sheepishly, standing on her bare feet to brush stray pieces of grass off her bare legs and pale arms.

"Not really…I have a Seeker's eye, I suppose…"

"I was working out…" She glanced around the pitch then nodded her head. A second later a sleek metal broom glided over to sit in front of her. "Well…taking a break from the work out."

"I was just coming to do some working out myself…"

"Mind if I joined you then?"

"No problem."

"I'll try to stay out of your way." She whistled and a small trunk landed in front of her a minute or so later.

He raised his hand to call his broom to him. "What's that?"

"My practice items." She flipped the lid open. Five extra size bludgers darted into the air. She lifted her wand to enchant the quaffle so it moved freely like a bludger and sent it into the sky as well. After that she fiddled with the wand some more until a loud song began to play from it. Just as he was straining to hear the lyrics, it went silent and he realized she'd fixed it so only she could hear the music. She turned the volume of the song all the way up, though he still couldn't hear anything, and tucked her wand into her tiny shorts.

"How do you play…?"

"You have to score fifteen goals in five minutes while avoiding the bludgers or the quaffle will explode."

"Wow…Can I play…?"

"Sure thing." She mounted her broom, grabbing her bat from the trunk before settling into position. "The timer starts as soon as we're in the air."

He climbed on his own broom. "Which goalposts? Does it matter?"

"The tallest one only."

"Got you… That makes it harder…" He looked up at the balls in the air.

"Well…the game _is_ illegal in America."

"Illegal? So I have a rule-breaker on my hands then?" He grinned, looking over at her.

She winked. "I invented the game."

"Amazing. Who are you exactly? Probably should've asked first…"

"Alize Warren." She reached out her hand to him.

"Regulus Black," he said as he shook her hand.

"Ah fuck…" she groaned. "Just fucking great. Really? _Really_? Why _me_?"

"Sorry…am I missing something here…?"

"Your brother is a demented, delusional, arrogant asshole idiot. Please tell me you aren't one too."

"That creature isn't my brother," he said coldly.

"That creature is barely human," she said, obviously irritated.

"Agreed."

"Now I'm all tense again." She rolled her shoulders. "Fuck this. I'm flying." She shot off into the air and the bludgers attacked her all at once.

He took off as well, chasing the quaffle, with a smile on his face. After twenty rounds of this "game", Regulus could take no more. He collapsed on the ground, exhausted, to watch as Alize continued to pummel both bludger and quaffle.

He watched her as he lay breathless, enchanted by her. She was incredibly strong and determined. She didn't appear to even be tired after the multiple beatings she got. And she was innovative. She didn't just use the bat, she also used her body. Her incredible flexibility helped as she used hips, legs, feet, shoulders, hands, wrists, ankles, knees, everything she could to get the quaffle through the goal and keep the bludgers away from her face. He grinned, still panting as his eyes followed her across the pitch. He was so distracted by her unbelievable flying that it took him a while to notice the other unbelievable things about her. Her body was absolutely magnificent. Each movement was magic, fluid, beautiful. She was almost like sex on a broom… Eventually she grew bored and sent the balls back to their trunk, leaping from her broom to land in a crouch beside him.

"You're amazing, Alize…" He lay on his back, looking up at her. "I'm no match for you."

"Thank you." She wiped sweat from her face and lifted the trunk onto her hip. "Thanks for playing with me."

"Anytime…really…I had fun. I hope we'll be doing this again…"  
"We'll see." She tugged on her tank top but it was firmly molded to her ample chest with sweat. "I'll see you later. It was nice to meet you."

"You too…good luck with the mutt…"

"Thanks. I'm gonna need it…" she muttered before stalking off, her long ponytail swishing across her round bottom.

He watched her appreciatively as she walked away, with a low whistle. She was fucking gorgeous…

Peter Pettigrew sat in the library, poring over all the American newspapers he could find as Sirius had requested. Books about America's most famous witches and wizards were spread out in front of him as well as the detailed and complicated lineages of every single wizarding family in western Europe and the Americas. He found that Alize was from the two purest wizarding families of France and America: the Warrens and the Celestines of France. After reading further, he came to realize that the Celestines were the most pure wizarding family in the world with the Warrens close behind. Neither family had a single muggle, squib, or blood traitor in their entire history. And both families traced their heritage all the way to Merlin, the world's first recognized wizard. He smiled excitedly, especially when he found news that she was a murderess. She'd killed her own sister, her identical twin, April, in cold blood. She'd survived the killing curse. He held the papers in his hand, twitching with eagerness as he rushed to tell his new friends of the girl's past. The Dark Lord would surely love to have such an intelligent, highly skilled, _pure _witch among his ranks. My, she was so pure she was most certainly almost to his Lord's stature. He changed into a rat hiding the papers to run to the Slytherin common room, through a hole in the wall, hiding until he saw the light of the sixth year dormitories, climbing out and changing back into a man. "She is perfection. Our Lord would be so _pleased_."

Amycus Carrow glared at him from his bed. "What now, filthy rat?"

"The American girl that the Black idiot is so fond of…she's pure as snow…and…she's murdered before…" He smiled, giggling nervously. "We must inform him…"

"What makes you think she is worthy?"

"She is more worthy than any of us. Look at this. She has killed as a mere child…her own twin sister…and there are rumors that she is behind her mother's death. She is perfect. Should I contact our Lord now?" He trembled with enthusiasm, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the dark mark.

Severus glanced up at him. "There's no way she's willing to follow the Dark Lord."

"We'll find out, won't we?" Pettigrew touched his dark mark.

"You idiot…" Severus murmured. "You realize when he learns that it is impossible, you will be punished?"

"Nothing is impossible for our Lord." He took all of the papers, running into the wall as a rat again across to the fifth year dormitories. "Regulus I have the best news…"

"Oh, how I love to hear from _you,_" he muttered, pulling the blanket further over his eyes. "I'm tired and I don't give a fuck, Pettigrew."

"The Dark Lord will be calling soon," he hissed.

Regulus jerked up. "What? Why? Who did what? Is someone going to be punished?" he whispered almost frightened.

"No, rewarded. Me! I have provided the Dark Lord with a new servant. Or I shall, at any rate…"

Within a few seconds, his dark mark tingled and then stung as his master called, pulling at him. "I really fucking hate you, Pettigrew," he muttered as they were forced to Disapparate.

"What was so urgent you had to call on me, Wormtail?" the young man asked, standing at the front of the long table, a large viper wrapped around his body. None were fooled by his façade, his true nature could be felt in waves, his evil, powerful aura surrounded him. Peter fell to his knees, trembling, conscious that he was in the presence of the most powerful wizard in the world.

"My Lord, I have found you the perfect servant. I have p-proof of her worth." He did not look up from the ground as he set the papers on the table. The Dark Lord immediately drew the papers to himself with his wand.

"What is this?" he said in his quiet, yet commanding voice.

"Sh-she is p-perfect, my Lord…"

"I do not see the urgency in such a situation."

Peter stood trembling to pull out a picture from his robes. "I h-have a p-picture, my Lord."

He looked up at him, his eyes cold. "What good is a picture, Wormtail? All I must know is if she can be won over."

Peter set the picture of Alize exercising on her broom down on the table and the Dark Lord looked at the picture for a long moment before looking up. "I do not trust Wormtail with such a delicate task. One of my more trusted servants must complete it."

"B-but my…my Lord…"

"Severus, Regulus. You must do this for me."

They bowed their heads to him. "We will try our best, my Lord," Severus murmured, exchanging a glance with the younger Death Eater.

"Go, now, all of you. Except Wormtail."

The witches and wizards in attendance were immediately repelled, forced to leave as they had been forced to come.

"D-do I receive m-my reward now, my Lord?"

"Reward?" He regarded him with one brow raised then a chilling smile. "Ah yes. I have a special task for you, my loyal servant."


	2. Chapter 2

Alize was in the library again when Severus found her. She'd checked out several books and was now returning them, struggling to reach a shelf just out of reach in order to put back one of the volumes she'd read. He strode behind her. "Need a little help?"

"I…I've got it," she bit out, rising as far onto her toes as she could, straining, stretching and still unable to slide the book onto its shelf. He chuckled, placing his hands on her waist to lift her just enough to reach the shelf.

"I guess you did get it…"

She beamed as he lowered her back to the floor. "Told you I could," she joked, winking.

"I knew you would." He smiled. "It seems a lot of people have taken an interest in you."

"That so?" she asked, surprised. She really hadn't noticed all the people who had grown to want her.

"Black, the other Black, Pettigrew, the Dark Lord, Potter , Lupin…"

"Well that is quite a…Wait, back up…Dark Lord…?" she frowned up at him, her head cocked, clearly puzzled.

"Nothing… really…don't worry about it…oh…I forgot one…me…" He smiled, blushing slightly.

"You? Oh…But…Dark Lord?"

He smiled. "I don't know…it's a rumor in the Slytherin dorms…I wouldn't know…"

"That's a strange one just to throw in there," she said, walking away as she pondered what Severus had said. She paused to bend over and slide another book onto one of the lower shelves.

"It is…yes…interesting though, isn't it?"

"I'm sure it would be…if I knew what the hell you were talking about." She looked up at him from where she was bent, then straightened slowly, holding the last two of her books against her chest.

"Don't worry about it."

She chucked one of her books at him, laughing. "You're infuriating, you vague bastard."

"My apologies." He caught the book. "How can I make it up to you?"

"I don't know. What do you have in mind?" she turned to walk off down another stack.

"My guilt is quite great…I'd be willing to do anything you ask."

She looked back at him over her shoulder, biting her lip. Then she smiled. "Will you go with me to the lake today?"

"Of course."

"Then consider your apology accepted." She turned on her heel and quickly disappeared.

He followed after her, smirking to himself on his discovery.

She was adorable. He knew he shouldn't be thinking along those lines but she was. She sat down on her bottom in the middle of the lake, cupping water in her hands and studying the tiny life forms within. The light shone in her red hair, which she'd pinned to the back of her head, and made her green eyes light up.

He walked out, sitting beside her. "And what is the princess up to today?"

"Princess?" she asked, looking up at him through her lashes. The water spilled from her hands.

"You seem the type." He shrugged. Within a moment, Regulus sat down on her other side.

"Mind if I join the party?"

"Not at all." She scooped up another handful of water, promptly ignoring them.

"What're you doing out here?" He glanced at Severus, who could just barely detect a hint of nervousness about him.

"Playing." She raised the water up closer to the light.

"Playing?"

She turned to look at him, blowing on the water in her cupped hands. Wherever her breath touched, the water turned into bubbles and lifted into the air to caress his cheeks.

He smiled. "Beautiful. You…um…any luck with…your problem?"

"He hasn't cornered me in the common room yet. But that doesn't mean he isn't up to something."

"Well…we wouldn't treat you like that…sometimes Slytherins get a bad reputation…but we're a hell of a lot better than him…"

"I don't really listen to what people say about Slytherins."

"That's good. So…you wouldn't mind walking with me back to the common room for a bit…?"

"Regulus, are you sure that's a good idea?" Severus murmured, one brow raised. "The others might not take too kindly…"  
"The others will have to deal with it." Regulus smiled, a glimmer in his eye.

She lowered her hands, dropping the water again. Her own eyes were sparkling with curiosity and interest. "I've never been in any of the other common rooms…"

"I'll be glad to show you when you are done…playing…"

"I'm done." She stood up, splashing water onto both Severus and Regulus. It ran down from her hips to her toes, molding her tiny skirt to her thighs. They both watched her, mesmerized, before standing. Regulus walked just slightly behind her so he could watch her, while Severus walked beside her. She pulled herself onto dry land, pausing long enough to pull on her socks and shoes, fastening her robe closed around her soaked body.

The two boys led her to Slytherin House, and into the common room. Looking around, she didn't seem apprehensive as they expected. In fact, she seemed to relax a bit in the darkly decorated room as if it brought her comfort.

Severus tensed a bit as Amycus and Alecto Carrow approached her. He knew they'd heard what the Dark Lord had said and hoped they were smart enough to heed it and not as stupid as they normally were.

"This is the new little birdie everyone's talking about? She's not that pretty…" Alecto cackled to her brother.

Amycus shoved his sister roughly. "We hafta respect her," he hissed. "The Dark Lord…"

"Um…thanks…" Alize said with raised brows.

"Welcome to our home. Bitch," she added in a mutter, turning away. "Don't expect me to play nice with a Red."

"Nice to meet you, too," Alize called after her. A grin slowly spread across her lips.

"Sorry," Severus muttered, glaring after Alecto.

"It's alright. So, are you going to tell me about this Dark Lord, yet? Because that's the second time I've heard that title today and I still have no clue whom it refers to."

"Perhaps if we were in a bit more…private place…perhaps down in the dorm…"

"Lead the way."

He smiled, taking her hand and leading her through the crowd of people, most of them trying to watch her. Severus shut the door behind him as they stepped through into the dorm. "The Dark Lord is…well he's…a very powerful wizard…known throughout Europe for his power…" he said cautiously.

"Alright," she said, sitting down on the edge of his bed, still curious.

"He came into power first…starting about twenty years ago…and has remained undefeated since…" He bit his lip, pacing as he spoke, idly waving his wand behind his back.

"Undefeated?" she asked. Her brows furrowed. "That implies that people have tried to stop him from doing something."

"Yes…many have been…a little nervous of his position…he has a lot of power; people always fear power…"

"Yes…I know that…" the spell he was weaving was slowly slipping through her defenses and overtaking her.

"He has a lot of loyal followers…including…me…"

"You?" The knowledge seemed to relax her a bit more. She trusted him.

"Yes… the…the Death Eaters…He wishes for you to join them…us…"

"Me?" she asked, incredulous but not rejecting. "Why? What could I possibly have to offer?"

"You're highly skilled, Alize…the tales of your bravery and achievements have reached the Dark Lord…"

"And he is impressed enough to extend an invitation?" she asked, once again curious, a bit confused, but not dismissing.

"Yes…if you would like to accept, I can take you to him…"

"I…don't know. I still know very little about the whole situation…" The spell wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. Her guards, even relaxed, were strong enough to keep the spell working at full force on her.

"What more must you know? You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes." That wasn't the spell talking. She really did trust him. But the more he worked her, the more the spell sank into her and soon he'd have her right where he needed her.

"He does not yet know what job would be suited to you…but perhaps just one meeting with Him…"

"One meeting." Her own natural curiosity was her downfall in this situation. Her desire to learn more of this Dark Lord combined with the spell, allowing it to sink fully into her. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Tomorrow night, then…? Or tonight?" he breathed, hoping, with a half of a smile. He would be rewarded for completing the task so early…

"Tonight."

He took her hand, pulling his sleeve up and pressing his other hand into his dark mark. _I've got her…_ Almost immediately the mark began to burn, tugging them away. It was a long moment before he realized he was the only one the Dark Lord had called so that the only ones in the room were the Master, himself, and Alize. "I have brought you the girl, my Lord…"

Alize blinked, disoriented. She'd lost her hair pins during the Disapparation and her hair fell down around her as she steadied herself.

The young man stepped closer, appraising her as His snake wove around his body. "She has promise," he murmured in his deceivingly quiet and calm voice, his lips lifting in a ghost of a smile. Alize's eyes followed him as he moved around her. The compulsion spell was still within her and Severus was grateful for that. It would make her more apt to accept everything the Dark Lord had to say and prevent her from speaking out in a dangerous way.

"I will personally watch over her. She may return to her place at school but first I will give her my mark." He stopped in front of her. "Look me in the eyes, child."

Alize's pale eyes lifted to meet his Master's black ones.

He seized control of her mind, delving into her most private memories, before pulling away, content. "Pull off your shirt, so that I may mark you." He pulled out his wand.

Alize immediately shrugged out of her robe, revealing her wet skirt still clinging to her thighs. She undid her shirt with quick, nimble fingers before dropping it to the floor with her robe, leaving her standing there in her soaked skirt and a black bra.

"Is…is that necessary, my Lord?" Severus asked, unable to look away from Alize's figure.

"Are you questioning me, Severus?" His eyes rose to Severus's.

"No sir, of course not."

The Dark Lord ran his wand down her front, slowly, looking over her body as he did. Alize shivered at the contact, soft tremors moving through her small frame. The tip came to rest just below her navel before he pressed it into her skin, the Dark Mark emerging from his wand. He knew just how painful receiving the mark was. But Alize didn't move, didn't cry out as so many others had. Her eyes never left his Lord's and her body never even tensed. The Dark Lord's lips curled in the smallest smirk. "Welcome to the Death Eaters, Alize Warren."

"Thank you," she murmured, the first words she'd said since they'd arrived.

"I shall call you back to me when I am ready for you." Nagini slithered up his body, her head lifting beside his own, hissing in his ear. He made several hissing noises back before nodding, raising his wand and dismissing both of them.

Severus sighed in relief as they were returned to his dormitory. "That went better than I could've hoped."

Alize sat down on his bed, staring down at her freshly marked skin.

"Y-you should put on your sh-shirt…" He looked around, realizing they had left it behind. "Oh…um…perhaps you could borrow mine."

"Please?" she looked up at him. "I'm freezing."

He pulled out a shirt from his drawer, handing it to her. "Are you alright? He can be a bit…intimidating and the Mark does hurt…a lot…"

"Hmm?" she asked, sliding the shirt on over her head and pulling her hair from the collar. "It's no worse than what I'm used to."

"Right…um…time to face the others…" he muttered, moving to open the door. "She's been accepted… marked," he whispered to Regulus who stood outside the door.

"You took the credit for it all, didn't you?" he hissed back.

"Don't worry about it, Black. You will get your chance." He smiled, leading Alize from the room. People tried to see her arm but were disappointed to see nothing was there.

Severus smiled, though a bit uneasy as to the meaning of what the Dark Lord had done. "You can't tell anyone about what happened tonight, Alize," he whispered as they walked from the common room out into the hall.

"Who would I have to tell?" she asked. "I don't have any friends other than you and you already know."

"Alright…I don't know when he would summon you again…but you must answer the call immediately or it will cause a lot of pain…"

"How do I do that?"

"Just…give in…let Him pull you away…"

She nodded. "Is that all then?" she asked quietly. "It's late… I'm suddenly exhausted…"

"For now. I…thank you…Be careful…and…Good night…"

"Night." She headed off toward her own common room, not looking back at him once as she walked away. He turned back into the Slytherin common room.

"I knew it," Alecto said haughtily. "He rejected the bitch."

Severus turned toward her with a knowing smile. "I'm afraid that's not so. He has marked her."

Several people drew closer. "Where? I didn't see it."

"He marked her in a different place." He pointed. "Right there. She is obviously special…" All eyes were on the spot he'd indicated on his own body, beneath his belly button, nestled at the center most point between his hips.

"Impossible. The little blood traitor can't be more important than his most faithful…" she cried, incredulous.

"You think to question the Dark Lord, Carrow?"

"No," she said, quickly, looking around fearfully. "All of you know my devotion…"

"And you have just called His chosen favorite a blood traitor in front of his followers. You should hope for our mercy and His own, Alecto."

She glared at him. "You're just a filthy Half-blood, Snape."

Severus's smirk grew wider. "I shall leave you to your fate, Alecto. Amycus…I would suggest controlling your sister." He walked back toward his dormitory. "Good night, all. Hopefully it will not be your last."

Sirius watched Alize enter the common room looking dazed and unlike herself. She glided through the room like a ghost, not looking at anyone, marching straight up the dormitory steps. She'd been wearing a men's shirt that was several sizes too large for her and when she walked it pressed against her stomach and he swore he saw the faintest glimpse of something black on her belly. Her robe was missing entirely. He sat back in his seat, confused. "Do…do you think she's seeing someone…?" he whispered, crestfallen to James.

"Of course not, mate…"

"Oh, no…she's merely wearing some man's shirt and has been in the Slytherin dormitories for the past two hours with Severus Snape," Remus looked up, with his brow raised. "Give it up."

Sirius glared at him. "Never…"

Remus rolled his eyes, returning to his book.

"Has anyone seen Wormy lately…?"

"No. He's been sick…hasn't he?" James said, uncertainly.

Suddenly, he came from upstairs, breathing heavily as if he'd been running. "I've been…getting the pictures you asked for…Sirius…"

Remus's eyes narrowed on Sirius. "Pictures, eh?"

"I…I'd been kidding, of course…leave them on my bed," he whispered to Peter.


	3. Chapter 3

Alize couldn't sleep that night, despite her exhaustion. She lay strewn across her bed in her nightgown, staring at the canopy of her bed, and allowing her body to become used to the pain from her new "Dark Mark".

Suddenly there was a tingling, a pins and needles type of feeling that escalated into a burning sensation. Was she being summoned as Severus said she might be? It burned all the way down between her legs, an excruciating sensation to sensitive skin. She might be able to ignore it if she wanted to but she was too curious to. She took a deep breath, following Severus's advice, and soon found herself no longer on her bed.

"My newest servant." The Dark Lord stood before her, his face cold, but his eyes appreciative.

"Good evening," she said, feeling that rush of contentment she'd experienced earlier upon seeing him.

"You have the voice of an enchantress," he said in his quiet, calm voice.

"Thank you." His voice was pleasant to her as well. Though some might find it intimidating, she found it rich and when she heard him talk she had to suppress soft shivers at the sound.

He turned from her, his snake watching her as he strode into the next room. "Follow me, child."

She immediately shadowed him as he walked away, her bare feet making no sound on the floor. Nagini slithered off of his body as he shut the door behind them both. Alize looked around the room, her eyes inevitably drawn back to the "Dark Lord". She wasn't the least bit apprehensive. How odd…

"Come here. Let me see you."

She stepped directly in front of him, gathering her hair so it would not obscure her face, tossing the long strands behind her shoulders. He waved his wand once more, her clothes dissolving as he examined her mark. It was a hot night, especially in the Gryffindor tower, so she'd worn nothing beneath her long gown. Now she stood before him, bare as the day she was born, and still without even the smallest glimmer of nervousness or fear.

"You do not fear me."

"No."

His lips lifted again, not enough to actually be called a smile. "Lie down for me, Alize. You are mine tonight."

She looked behind herself at the bed in the corner, then turned on her heel and climbed into it. He watched her every step, as Nagini slithered across the floor around his feet then he followed her, standing beside the bed. She looked up at him from the bed, her eyes meeting his. Still he saw no fear or hesitation in their green depths. He had been told of her courage, but he was still pleasantly surprised, though barely any change registered in his demeanor as he ordered her onto her stomach. She rolled over without a question, stretching out for him. Without being told to, she tossed her long hair off her back so he could see her clearly. His eyes roamed over her body as his clothes disappeared as hers had moments before. She was quite beautiful, whether you looked at her from the front or the back. Her well-toned body was ripe and luscious, every part of her designed to trigger wanton images and burning sexual need.

He lay down on top of her, holding her hands above her head. "I shall make you mine tonight," he whispered, his voice showing traces of emotion for the first time.

Her only response was a soft "yes", muffled because he'd had her lay facing away from him as he always did. He nudged her legs farther apart and she complied so easily. He entered her swiftly, holding her down. She let out a loud, pulsing shriek and at first he thought it to be from pain. He'd known she was a virgin by searching through her memories yet he'd forgotten she had never even been kissed, let alone touched. He'd felt himself shredding her maidenhead as he thrust inside her, tearing it apart. But he realized soon enough that his immediate assumption was wrong. She had not screamed from pain, or at least not entirely from pain, but also the pleasure of being filled by him for the first time. He thrust against her; the only time he ever lost his rigid coolness was when he had a woman to enjoy. He believed in immediate gratification and was willing to take what he wanted however he needed to, but he would never touch anyone who was unworthy of him.

And true to belief, this witch as pure as snow was the best he'd ever had. He'd bedded many sluts over time but never had he had a virgin, nor a girl as visually stimulating as the one beneath him. She was tighter than he'd ever thought possible, squeezing him as if her body meant to trap him within her. His hands tightened more on her wrists the closer he got to completion as he ravaged her body. He barely made a sound as he pounded against her, although his body reacted more than it ever had and moans threatened to betray him, leaping unwanted to his lips.

Not even his most demented yet faithful servant, Bellatrix, with her delusional lust and longing for him, had enjoyed his plundering as obviously as this little witch did. Though he pinned her beneath him, holding her still, he could feel her desire coiling deep within her muscles pressed against him. Her own moans were breathy and soft, only loud enough to tease his ears before fading. Normally he chose to ignore his partners' attempts at feigning pleasure, something he found so easy when he had them facing away from him so he could not see their expressions. But hearing these breathless gasps of need and want, he knew they were the most real of any he'd ever had. And as those moans and gasps filled the room, they filled him with a desire he'd never had before…to see exactly what he was doing to her, to see need cross her face, a need they both knew only he could fulfill.

He continued to thrust against her, he suddenly spun her around so that she faced him, still holding her down, something he had never done before now. It was worth it to give into that desire. He'd known the others' expressions would be unsatisfactory but Alize's face only seemed to add to his own craving, his own pleasure. Her large eyes were half lidded now, their pale depths dark from the lust. Her pale cheeks were now red, flushed from heat, flushed from desire and pleasure. As he pressed in and out of her, her perfect lips parted again and again to release those pants that demonstrated clearer than anything how much she was enjoying the way his body robbed hers.

He nearly lost all control, and instead found himself bending to suck none too gently at her throat leaving behind a dark mark. He'd already given into impulse in placing his official mark just above her sex instead of on her arm where it belonged. How much more possessive could he get?

Alize's soft neck shifted beneath his mouth, vibrating as she moaned at the contact. Her head tilted as far back as the pillows and her caged arms would allow, silently begging for him to leave more. He slid his lips across her neck, leaving behind marks all across her neck and throat. Let his servants think what they will. If any should think to question him, they will find themselves in utter agony so he need not care what they made of his actions.

His hands gripped her wrists firmly as he teetered on the edge, gasping for breath. He had never felt this way with any other woman he'd had in this bed. Her desire because of him, for him, spurred his own. And he'd never had such the ferocious need to see a woman reach her orgasm beneath him before he even reached his own. His teeth scraped lightly over her shoulder as he thrust against her. Was he being gentle now? Tender? The concept was alien. He couldn't comprehend why he felt the need to act the way he did. It was the witch's spell over him. She enchanted him, entrapped him within her desire. But no one would get the best of Lord Voldemort. He was the best wizard there was. He would not bow down to a…He quickly lost his train of thought as he continued to pound against her, coaxing them both closer and closer.

The closer she dragged him to release, the closer her own loomed. Her body was squeezing him even tighter than before, her inner muscles twitching deep within her core. He moaned against her skin, his head resting against her, revealing more of his human side to her than he'd ever shown to anyone else. She was so close. He could feel not only her inner body quaking, but the rest of her as well. But she was holding back, trying not to reach that peak when he hadn't reached his. He buried himself inside of her, his body exploding in ways it had never before, sending wave upon wave of pleasure through him. Pleasure only made infinitely better when his orgasm spurred hers and her body convulsed around his length, adding a million tiny sparks to the fires already burning.

He rolled off of her, lying in the bed beside her. He did not push her away as he done before. He did not order her to leave his presence immediately as he had always done. Instead, he lay there in that bed, the smell of fresh blood filling his nostrils as he listened to her trying to catch her breath. "Do you wish to return to your bed, child?" he asked, a new oddity for him. He did not ask what his slaves wanted. They did as they were told.

"No." He enjoyed the way she answered his questions. She was bluntly honest, never vague in her answers. Yes or no.

He stood from the bed, calling his clothes back to himself as he retrieved Nagini from the floor. Voldemort's eyes remained upon the odd girl he had decided to make his own. She was an interesting girl, undeterred by all that had made him feared and admired. She looked at him like no other ever had. Without fear, without greed. She had respect in her eyes, yes, but it was because he had earned it to her. Not because he had forced it on her. Those eyes followed his movements as he looked her over. Spread out as she was on her back, he could easily see between her legs, the waves of dark red blood covering her inner thighs all the way down to her knees. His lips curved again. _Mine._ He had claimed her, utterly and completely.

When had he become so possessive? Of a mere girl?

A mere girl who had shown him more loyalty in the two days he'd known her than every single of one of his followers, even the ones that had lasted from the very beginning, ever had. She had given him her virginity and had not complained at his rough treatment of her. She'd enjoyed it. She spoke to him as though he were someone to be admired because he'd earned it, not because he'd terrorized her into feeling it. With frank and straightforward honesty that was more than just a little refreshing. And earlier as he'd laid buried within her body and her tight little sheath was a breath away from reaching her pleasure, she had forced herself to wait, forced her body to stay calm long enough for him to reach his own. She'd been making sure his needs were met before her own. Willingly. Without having to be asked or ordered.

He spoke briefly to Nagini then returned to the bed, lying beside her once more, this time testing her as he lay with his snake. All of his followers looked upon Nagini with revulsion and fear. Alize turned toward him, rolling onto her side. Her eyes roamed over Nagini's long, twisting body not with repulsion but appreciation. She looked as though she wanted to touch her.

"You wish to touch my pet." He rarely phrased his questions as such, rather as statements that did not require an answer.

"Yes." Her eyes rose to his again, asking silently for permission.

His head barely moved in a curt nod, speaking to Nagini. Alize's small hands raised silently to trace Nagini's scales in a soft caress as loving as all of his had been. Nagini expressed her surprise and delight to him, she who did not love anyone but himself had taken to this strange girl. Alize continued to stroke Nagini in a way that pleased his pet. And just as Nagini found pleasure in the attention, Alize found comfort in it. Stroking Nagini was relaxing her, making her drowsy as her hands slid across the giant snake. She was slipping away, falling into unconsciousness.

He raised his wand to send her back to her bed. "_Good night_," he whispered in Parseltongue.

"You too, my Lord," she whispered back, her eyes fluttering closed.

He blinked. She understood his speech. There was definitely more to this girl than met the eye. He dismissed her, so that she slept in her own bed as he lay back in his, Nagini curled at his side.


	4. Chapter 4

Her shirt was gone, her only robe, and now her favorite nightgown too. Alize scowled down into her trunk the next morning after all the other girls had gone to breakfast, praying she found something suitable to wear. She was completely naked as she searched and she could still feel the blood on her thighs. She didn't have time to shower because she'd had to wait until all the other Gryffindor girls had left the dorm in order to emerge from her bed. She hurriedly shoved on a pair of panties and her bra, stepping into one of her skirts. She'd just have to wear Severus's shirt until she could retrieve her own so she yanked it on over her head and tucked it into her skirt. Satisfied with that, she sank down and pulled on socks that went all the way up to her thighs, hiding most of the blood. Once she was fully dressed, she grabbed her books, and raced from the room, hurrying to Defense Against the Dark Arts with scarcely a minute to spare before the bell rang. Sirius sat beside her, a grin on his face though it obviously concealed a great deal of tension.

She chose to ignore him that class period, flipping open her notebook and burying her nose in it so she wouldn't be bothered by him.

He didn't say a word to her, merely sat silently beside her the entire class period, rubbing his leg against hers. If she felt it, she made no move to show him that she had. She stubbornly kept her leg right where she had put it and as he rubbed against her, he realized she was wearing socks that were quite thick and disappeared under her skirt. She'd always worn socks that were short, clinging to her ankles. And today was such a hot day. So why had she forced herself to wear winter leggings?

He looked over at her, curiously, barely listening to Professor Georje's lecture. Her robe was absent again and she wore Severus's shirt as she had the night before. Had something happened to her belongings? Were her robe and clothes missing and this was all she could muster? He frowned, and the frown only deepened when he saw Severus Snape approach her immediately after class.

"Are you feeling alright, Alize? I'm sorry I helped drag you into this…"

"Please don't apologize, Severus," he heard her murmur quietly. "I feel wonderful. Really, I do."

"Really…? I mean…the first day it'll hurt…and I wasn't completely sure you wanted to go through with it…"

"I don't even feel _that _anymore." As she spoke she shifted on her feet, her thighs rubbing together.

"Good…I'm glad…" He offered her his arm.

Sirius sat completely shocked. When his friends finally managed to get a word out of him, all he could say was, "_Snape?_ How in the fuck..? _Snape?"_

"Maybe it's not what you think," Remus said softly.

"What the fuck else could it be? He's fucking…goddamn…" He stood, kicking his chair.

"You knew she didn't like you, Padfoot."

"So fucking what? I could get her to like me…"

"Of course you can. What happened to never giving up?"

"He _fucked_ her…now she's never going to want me…"

James raised a brow at him. "You're suggesting Severus Snape is a better lover than _you_?"

"No…not at all…she won't want to leave him…that's why I don't fuck virgins…they get…clingy…"

They looked over at Alize and Severus but frowned. Severus was alone again. Alize had run off without him.

"She's clingy all right," James said, suppressing a laugh. "You forget Alize Warren is different than any other girl you've been with, Sirius. Don't condemn her yet."

"I'll have her…I can't live without her…"

Alize stood beneath the shower, allowing the hot water to rush over her sweaty, blood stained body. The heat relaxed her stiff muscles, soothing the aches and pains she'd received over the horribly hectic last few days. The water ran through her hair, soaking it, and she bent to retrieve her shampoo. As she did, her stomach contracted, making her Dark Mark leap with fire and pain. She bit back a groan and straightened immediately, quickly washing her hair before squirting soap into her hands to clean the blood off her thighs. When she was clean and utterly relaxed, she stepped from the shower and dressed in her uniform to comb her hair. Ten minutes later she exited the shower and went off to the girl's dorm. Once there she flopped down on the bed, hoping to catch up on some of the sleep she had not received the night before. It wasn't long before she dozed even despite the pain that had reawakened during her shower.

The dream she had as she napped was a strange one. Faces, so many faces, swirling around in her vision, none of them familiar. It went on forever until she finally jerked awake, finding she'd slept all the way until nightfall.

Soon she felt the prickling of a summons. She ignored the pain long enough to fix her wrinkled clothing before allowing herself to be whisked away again.

He sat silently upon his bed, Nagini rose to greet her as she would a friend, curling up Alize's leg. Alize bent at the waist to greet her in turn. Alize's tiny hand somehow seemed even smaller in comparison to Nagini's head.

"_She has taken a liking to you_," he said softly in Parseltongue.

"I'd hoped she would." His newest recruit straightened, looking up at him as his pet curled around her.

"_Where did you learn the language of snakes?_" he continued, still refusing to use English.

"I've always been able to understand it. I've never been able to speak it myself but I know what you're saying when you speak it."

"The ability comes from Salazar Slytherin himself," he murmured, no longer speaking through hissing. "It has long been considered a gift of his House."

"Perhaps that's why I can only understand then."

"Perhaps. It is still an interesting concept. Did you sleep well, child?" He beckoned to his snake who heeded his call immediately, returning to his body.

"After I left here I did."

"Tell me your thoughts of me as your new Master." His eyes, cold and black, rose to hers to hold her gaze.

"I believe I will be more content serving you, my Lord, than I ever have been."

"You shall serve me well. I have seen great loyalty in you. However I have not seen what I was told to expect of you, though the source was not to be trusted." He stood slowly, fluidly, his movements as precise and serpent like as the viper wrapped around his shoulders. "Nevertheless, I have found you to be pleasing to me."

"I am honored."

"You did not know who I was just two days prior," he said, coolly.

"But I know you now."

"Yes, and you know me deeper than many of my most valued. You shall be meeting them all shortly."

He stopped in front of her so close that he towered above her. "Now tell me what you think of me as your lover."

"I never dreamed anything could feel as incredible as you inside me," she murmured softly, looking up at him through her dark lashes.

His eyes usually so cold and devoid of emotion were filled with heat as he commanded her to lie upon his bed again. She did as instructed, lying down on her stomach as she had the night before.

"On your back, Alize. Now." He dissolved their clothing again, joining her on the bed. "You are mine now and I will treat you as such."

"Yes." She rolled swiftly to her back, looking up at him with those eyes that were too easy to drown in.

"You give yourself so easily," he murmured.

"But only to you." Her words were true. And he couldn't say that about anyone else in his ranks.

"I know this." He ran his tongue along the marks he had left the previous night. He had lost all control while buried inside her. He'd broken all his own rules even as she had exceeded all of his expectations. Wormtail had been right about one thing, Alize was perfect.

He looked down at her, making a split-second decision. He was already trying new things…breaking the rules. He rolled onto his back, tugging Alize on top of him. Her body seemed to be designed to suit his whims. She settled perfectly around him, her knees on either side of his hips, her entrance teasing the tip of him. He moaned aloud, pulling her down on top of him, his eyes capturing hers. As soon as he filled her, her cheeks filled with heat. She slid against him, her hips rising and falling sensually as she rode him. Her eyes held his, never looking away, darkening more and more by the second. Soon she was moaning, gasping, rocking restlessly against his length. He rose up against her, giving her more, his moans barely suppressed, joining hers. He had never seen anything so thrilling, so deeply erotic in all his life. Her breasts bounced every time she moved atop him and she was positioned in such a way that he could very easily slide his eyes down to watch himself enter her again and again. It was mere moments before he lost himself to her, his head falling back as he exploded within her for the second time, still thrusting against her. She didn't mind missing out on an orgasm even despite her body being manipulated into drawing close. She continued to hold his gaze, rocking against him until he calmed.

He held her hips in his hands loosely, merely looking up into her eyes for a moment before lifting her off of him. "_You are beautiful, little one_," he murmured in Parseltongue, then smiled for the first time in forty-odd years.

"Thank you," she said softly. In the sudden stillness after their tryst, she grew a bit less relaxed and lifted her hands to push her long hair behind her ears out of habit.

"Do you think me evil?"

"Yes and no." She lowered her hands again, sinking down so she sat with her bottom resting on the heels of her feet.

"An odd answer. Explain to me."

"You are very, very powerful man and I know you've done evil things in the past. You are capable of doing the worst and you have on occasion. But the reasons behind some of the things you've done weren't just because you're a malevolent person. Your actions had purpose beyond the battle for light and darkness. You do wicked things, my Lord, it's true. But you are not exclusively evil. And I think, in some way, that makes you even more fearsome."

"I see." He nodded, reclining back in his bed. She sat silently beside him, content to trace his body with her eyes.

"How much do you know of me?"

"I know of everything you have ever done to, for, or around every one of your followers. I suppose then that I know almost everything there is to know."

"Not so…but how is it that you know this?"

She was unable to bite back her smile. "I am very skilled in Legimens, my Lord."

He returned her smile. "I must be careful around you then. Do you know any of my past?"

She shook her head slowly. "I have never tried to use it on you."

"I would know if you had. You know only that which my followers know."

"Yes."

"You should return to your bed, Alize. You do not wish to stay out too long. You need your rest."

"I will. But…I have no clothing left, my Lord."

With an almost lazy flick of his wand, she was wearing her nightgown once again and she had a new uniform with a robe that did not have a House allegiance.

She smiled down at the robe in her hand, trailing her finger over the soft lining. "Thank you."

"I will provide for my most faithful."

She rose from the bed slowly, almost reluctantly, standing in front of him as she shifted her gaze from her new garments to her lover.

He closed his eyes, lifting his wand again. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams, my Lord."

His eyes fluttered open. "I shall see you tomorrow." And then he dismissed her to her bed.

Alize woke from a nightmare the next day at three in the afternoon, her chest heaving, drenched in sweat. She looked frantically around but found herself alone and fought to suppress the all too rapid fluttering of her heart. She couldn't remember what she had dreamed about it, the heart pounding fear still rode her system strong. She scrambled from the bed, realizing she was almost late for class, and threw on her brand new uniform. She took her time pulling on the new robe and fastening it closed. It was beautiful and soft and obviously expensive, the robe black and white instead of any of the house colors. She smiled, stroking the buttery material as she hurried off to class. She was in such a rush that she was running at top speed around a corner and hadn't seen the group of Slytherins assembled outside of Slughorn's classroom, waiting to get in. She bounced off the back of a burly man and, cursing, fell to the ground with a thud and an awful lot of pain as her books and papers all went flying. He looked at her, wide-eyed then immediately dropped to his knees, picking up her things for her.

"Thank you," she said, snatching up her papers that were strewn across the floor and shoving them in the back of her text book. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to hit you…"

"No, no. I…I was in your way. I'm very sorry, Mistress…"

"No, really I was- Wait…what?" she paused in what she was doing, looking up at him. He watched her almost fearful as he let her in front of him.

Alize puzzled over the boy's odd reaction as she shuffled through her papers, trying to organize them. At least she'd made it to class on time…

Sirius stepped into the classroom, pulling her into his lap. "Hello sexy."

"Let go of me," she hissed, her whole body tensing. Her fingers flexed, itching to reach for her wand. But she couldn't reach it from where she was sitting.

"I can't…I think I'm stuck."

Severus Snape strode behind him, holding his wand to Black's neck. "You should let her go."

"Please," Alize added sweetly.

"I'm sorry. Does she belong to you?"

"What does it matter? You should know how to treat a lady, you filthy mutt."

He glared up at him. "Just because you fucked her, doesn't mean you can control her every move."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Let go of me," Alize muttered darkly, struggling against Sirius's hold.

He reluctantly released her. "I'm not losing to you, fucker."

Alize scrambled out of his lap, moving several feet away to take calming breaths. Sirius holding her like that had triggered those left over emotions from her nightmare and she fanned herself, trying to breathe.

"What Alize does with who is none of your business," Severus muttered, moving to Alize's side. She sat down in the nearest seat, returning to organizing her papers in order to keep her mind occupied. "He doesn't matter. If ever you need help just call us."

"Thank you." She smiled appreciatively up at him. "I'm fine really. I just forgot which pocket my wand is in…" She started furiously searching through the brand new robe's pockets.

"Where did you get the new clothes?" he whispered.

"They were a gift," she said vaguely, finally locating her wand and withdrawing it.

"You seem quite special." He smiled.

"I always have been," she said with a wink.

"I've noticed." He saw the dark marks across her neck and throat. She seemed to notice his attention. Her hand lifted to trace the spots lightly with one fingertip. "Something happen?" he asked curious and surprised.

"Nothing bad."

"Right…" He sat back to think about it, puzzling over this. The Dark Lord had marked her in more than one way, apparently. But what did it mean? And what would it mean for the rest of the Death Eaters, himself?

He'd have to wait to find out, he supposed. He hated waiting. His eyes dipped to where he had witnessed his Lord mark her. Strange…the whole situation was just strange.

Alize seemed restless throughout class. She shifted aimlessly in her seat, fiddled with her hair, and ran her hands over the robe falling across her thighs multiple times. She wasn't paying attention to the lesson at all. He tried not to think about it too much. If he couldn't figure it out, what was the point? The Dark Lord obviously wanted her as many others did. Perhaps that's all there was to it.

Slughorn called on Alize to answer a question and she did before he'd even finished it. The professor was satisfied she was paying attention, so he turned his own elsewhere and Alize returned to tapping her foot impatiently, her eyes on her own legs.

The bell rang throughout the school, pulling Severus from his thoughts. Beside him, Alize gathered her belongings quickly and rushed from the room without saying goodbye to anyone. He watched after her curiously, before heading toward his dorm.

Alize ran for the girl's lavatory the first moment she got. Dropping her books unceremoniously by the door, she ran into one of the stalls and threw herself down on the floor to retch. She'd been trying to hold it in all of class. She didn't know what had spurned the burning nausea but she was grateful she'd been able to prevent a scene. When she felt better, she moved to wash her mouth out and splash cold water on her face. Now exhausted, she gathered her books again, walked up to her dorm, and collapsed into bed, still wearing the robe. Soon she was asleep.

Lord Voldemort paced his study, pondering this new obsession of his. He could not even begin to fathom the feelings he had for the young girl who had given herself to him. Voldemort had actually started looking forward to his nights when he could call her to his bedroom. He had sex with her face-to-face, a level of intimacy he had never known before. He barely knew the girl yet he gave her more than he had his most trusted followers. He sighed, returning to his bedroom then, unable to wait any longer, called for her. She was always the quickest to respond to his calls and always without reluctance.

She appeared before him within moments, dressed in the clothes he'd given her. Her black and white robe was fastened over her uniform, hiding it from view, and it fell around her like a rich gown. It was obvious she'd been asleep when he summoned her, but she was shaking off her drowsiness quickly.

"They fit you nicely." He nodded, beckoning her forward, closer. He ran his hands along the fabric of her clothes then drew her close, pressing their lips together. It was her first kiss and the first he had had since his days as a teenager in school. She did not disappoint because of a lack of experience. Her lips were soft and delicious, and parted easily for him without having to be prompted. His tongue dipped eagerly between her lips as he led her to his bed, laying her down upon it as he continued to explore her mouth. He had never missed kissing before this. He'd avoided it with all of his bed mates, always had. It was an intimate experience, when you willingly put your face up so close to another's. Should they deign to open their eyes, they'd be looking directly into your eyes and with your guard down from the inevitable tug of desire, it would be so easy to get entrapped that way and then manipulated. But he did not think of any of that while he ravaged Alize's mouth as he'd done her body twice now. He thought only of how lovely she tasted and how unbearably heady the sound of her soft moans filling his mouth was. As he kissed her, holding her down to the bed, he heard his door open behind them. He'd forgotten to lock the door.

"Master, did you w-" He heard the sharp gasp of Bellatrix Lestrange, from his doorway. He looked up at her, schooling his emotions so that he appeared as cold as normal.

"Leave me, Bellatrix, your services are not needed."

"But Master, I have always been your favorite…you would allow this…this…child to take my place?"

Alize, still lost to the desire his kiss had evoked, grew impatient as he dealt with Bellatrix. Her hands lifted to grip him, her fingers curling into his shirt at his back.

He returned to her, using his wand to slam the door shut on Bellatrix. He had no desire to deal with her jealousy, nor did he need to. Alize made a soft sigh of contentment as his lips slanted over hers again and her fingers flexed on his spine. _So eager…_

With another swish of his wand, their clothes were gone as he continued unrelenting in the heated kiss, pressing their bodies together intimately. He wished he knew what it was about this girl that drove him so recklessly out of control. Bellatrix had seen them kissing, _kissing_, and he hadn't even cared at all. Alize tilted her head back, her tongue sliding across his.

He moaned into her mouth as he took her, his tongue pressing into her mouth as he pressed into her body. He turned onto his back again, finding immensely more pleasure when he allowed her to move freely. His kiss had made her bold, thinking of nothing else but the lust. Her hips thrust down on him ruthlessly, pulling him into her body with speed and force. Her mouth never left his as she grew more wild, more untamed above him. Every moment with her was a new experience. He tangled his hand in her hair, holding her mouth to his while he rose up against her. She was so passionate, and she did not slow or falter at all as she took him. As her hips thrust down against him, he felt the heat from her Dark Mark pressing against his stomach. She was so enticing, the thought of her was almost enough to send him over the edge. He shuddered as she moved on top of him seconds before he came for her, finding himself actually crying out her name, the sound filling her mouth. Her body quaked around him and he realized she'd reached her orgasm at the same moment he had reached his. Her sheath twitched around his length, drawing him in deeper.

He pressed her against him, holding her, his breath coming in hard pants. She was breathless as well, her body covered in fine sheen of sweat. She was worn out after their passionate tryst and she laid down against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He was more relaxed than he ever was, even when he was only surrounded by his trusted pet. He managed to slip into sleep as he lay there with her, something which amazed and terrified him when he awoke. He was not concerned long, however. He found her exactly as he had left her, her face pressed into his neck, her body still holding his within her. The only difference now was that she was asleep, her breathing even and serene, and her body cooled over the course of the last several hours, leaving her skin chilly to the touch rather than feverish. He slid her off of him, rolling to his side so that he could admire her, running his hand along her body. She slept so soundly in his presence. So many others couldn't even look him in the eyes, they were so terrified of him. But this little girl who had bewitched him showed no fear when they were together and she was so completely relaxed within his presence, something that was entirely new, that she had fallen into a deep sleep while he held her. Even now she did not stir though he touched her, proving that she was truly content beside him. Should she be putting on a mask that prevented him from seeing her fear, as he'd thought in the beginning, she would have awoken the moment he moved beneath her, leaping into alertness as he touched her. But she slept on, just as serene as when he'd been resting beneath her.

His lips curled in that small smile, the slightest change upon his face. He would make her his forever, claim her even more than he already had. He would marry her…

No other was as worthy of his affection as she. No other was as interesting to speak to, as intelligent and sharp. Even his most trusted followers did not trust him as she did, did not respect him as she did. If ever there were a woman who would be suitable for the Dark Lord's bride, it was Alize Belinda Warren, the purest witch in all the world.

He would announce it at the next gathering. That was also when he would introduce her to all of his followers, some for the first time. He pressed his lips to hers again. Should she ever betray him…he dare not even think such a thing could happen. It seemed impossible, at any rate. She was far too honest a woman to become a traitor. He'd never been more certain of anything in his life. She alone was someone he could trust completely. He returned her clothes to her before sending her back where she came from then spoke of his intentions to Nagini. She was perfect for him. Wormtail had been correct in making his discovery of her urgent business. She would be the most important person in his ranks beside himself. He was only grateful to himself that he had given her a chance. He had been so ready to dismiss Wormtail's eager claims until he'd seen that photograph.

He lay in his bed, envisioning his servants' reactions. This could be amusing.


	5. Chapter 5

Alize was disappointed when she awoke alone early the next morning. She had fallen asleep on top of him, her body still cradling his. Now she lay in her Gryffindor bed completely alone. She did not want to be alone this day, for some reason. As she was already dressed, she stood up from the bed and braided her hair before wandering down to the Great Hall, where she had never eaten before. She looked over at the Gryffindor table but found it unappealing. When she glanced at the Slytherin table, it seemed much more inviting and she walked over to stand across from Severus and Regulus as they ate.

"May I join you?" she asked.

"Of course." Regulus smiled up at her, his eyes taking in her appearance, her clothes, and the marks still marring her neck.

She slid into the seat between them, looking down the table at all the other Slytherins. Her hand lifted to absently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, calling even more attention to the bruises on her skin.

Regulus whispered to his friend Drake sitting beside him. "Can you believe it? He's completely claimed her. Everyone refers to her as Mistress now…they're all willing to kiss her toes if she asked."

He glanced back at Alize, who was completely oblivious to all the attention she was getting. She was speaking to Severus, and they were engrossed in conversation. As she spoke, her hand twirled absently in the air. He sighed. "They're all fake. Pretending to like her. I already had before the Lord had marked her."

"I like her…"

"She's off-limits, for obvious reasons…"

"Yeah, I know…if I don't want to endure horrible pain…blah, blah, blah…I get it…am I invited, do you know?"

"Yes, this next weekend."

Drake smiled, looking nervous, glancing back at Alize. "Do you think he'd ever tire of her…?"

"Alize Warren? Does it look as if anyone could tire of her? And I would not hope for that…he'd never let her live after getting as close to her as he had."

"It was just a thought…"

"Stop thinking it…he will look into your mind, you realize this, right?"

"He won't find anything wrong…"

"Except fantasies involving his Mistress…"

"No thank you," he heard Alize murmur beside him when someone offered to fill her plate for her. "No, really. I'm not hungry," she said when they insisted.

The man who'd offered nodded to her. "Yes, Mistress. Of course not. I am sorry for my intrusion."

"It's alright. You don't have to apologize."

"You're getting quite popular," Severus said, smiling.

"So you noticed?" she said with her own small smile. "Bit annoying, isn't it?"

"I thought it would be a bit empowering."

"I don't need to feel empowered. I'm confident enough on my own."

"Of course…but being the Master's favorite does come with…benefits…"

"I know all about the benefits…" she said with a wry smile.

He chuckled. "I don't know if we're talking about the same thing here…"

"Probably not. But, either way, I am enjoying myself."

"That's always a good thing…" He smiled.

"Agreed."

"Has he called you back…often…?"

"Every night so far."

"Wow…he must really like you…"

"Apparently."

"Well…I'm glad it worked out for you."

"You should be. You're the one that brought me to him."

"I know…" He smiled wider. "I'm glad he's happy too…"

She laughed as she stood. "Thanks for letting me join you for breakfast. I'll see you later?"

"Of course. If you're not…summoned…that is…"

She winked as she left the room. "We'll see."

It just so happened that Alize wasn't summoned that night, nor the next. She was neither puzzled nor worried but she did find that she missed it. Unfortunately it wasn't until the weekend that she was summoned once more. All of the Death Eaters were summoned at once, in front of the long table and they all took their seats. Bellatrix was forced from her seat beside Voldemort in order to make room for Alize, who surveyed the room with curiosity but not a touch of nervousness or apprehension.

"We must welcome our newest follower. Many of you have heard tales and I will set these notions straight." He turned to Alize, before continuing in Parseltongue. "She will be my wife."

Her eyes rose to meet his and she nodded slowly after a moment, accepting.

He turned back to the rest before repeating the sentence in English. "Do not question my judgment. She has already shown more loyalty to me than any of you ever has. She is more worthy than any woman ever will be. Her heritage is very nearly as pure as my own."

There were cries of shock and surprise throughout the room and outrage from Bellatrix who jumped from her seat, seething. "My Lord, she is a child. Barely older than our youngest…How can she be worthy of this…? How do you know she will not turn on you? She is seeking nothing but glory from th-"

Voldemort held up his hand and she clutched her throat as it constricted. "Did I not just say to refrain from questioning my decision. Do you not believe I know what I am doing?"

She sat back down beside her husband, looking indignant, still unable to speak as he released the spell. "Does anyone else wish to voice their opinions? Yes, she is young, but she is mine. No one else will touch her. That is all I will say on the subject." He turned to Drake who sat beside Regulus. "We have a new servant to welcome today."

Drake swallowed hard as Voldemort beckoned him forward to the front of the table. He could not look up from the ground and he felt sick as he heard the hissing and slithering of Voldemort's pet snake. "Bear your arm, child."

He pulled up his sleeve, trembling as the Dark Lord placed his wand against his arm, and suddenly he cried out in pain as the mark was burned into his skin.

The Dark Lord's mouth twisted into a scowl. _Weak_, he thought. Alize had taken the pain without a flinch. She had uttered no sound, had not even trembled. Her eyes had not left his the entire time.

She was stronger than these weak-minded fools. He ordered the new recruit to his seat and turned back toward his new fiancée. "Does anyone have anything to report? Lucius, how is the Ministry take-over going?"

"Very well, just as planned, my Lord."

Alize's eyes rose to meet his and did not waver. She held his gaze as long as he was looking at her.

"Rudolfus, has any more information been collected from the Aurors?"

"No sir," he said quietly.

"Wormtail, bring me Nagini's dinner and you are all dismissed."

Everyone but Pettigrew, who scurried away to the dungeons, disappeared.

"You are pleased with my decision, Alize," he said in Parseltongue.

"I am," she admitted.

"Come let us…celebrate," he murmured with a tiny smile. As he led her away, Pettigrew returned with what appeared to be a human body. Alize did not look back as they entered his bedroom.

He lay her across his bed, looking her over before kissing her from her lips to her throat. Her first soft moan met his ears as his lips pressed to one of the marks he'd left. His dark eyes rose to hers as his mouth trailed lower, as, for the first time…probably in his entire life, he manually removed her clothes. It was an interesting feeling, watching her body became bared for him inch by inch. Stripping her like this was a show, really. "Do you know my name, child?"

"Just that they call you the Dark Lord," she murmured breathlessly.

"I am Lord Voldemort."

"Voldemort," she repeated and it was the first time he'd ever heard it spoken with its proper French inflection. "Flight of death."

"You are very intelligent, young one." He had to hold back a shiver at the delicious sound of his name on her lips.

"My mother's family speaks exclusively French," she explained.

"I see. You are born of the Celestines. Nobility."

"Yes. In the direct line."

"Beautiful." He shifted, pushing her shirt from her shoulders. "I wish to hear it again. My name."

"Voldemort," she whispered.

"It is perfect." He pushed her pants down from her hips.

"Voldemort," she breathed again, her eyes following his movements.

He moaned, kissing around her dark mark.

"Please…" she mumbled after a moment. "Voldemort…Please…"

He slid up her body, pushing her legs apart as he ran his tongue across her throat.

"_S'il vous plaît_," she whispered as he positioned himself. Her perfect French accent as she spoke the words reminded him of her pure history. He had often read of the Celestines, the purest family in the world.

He smiled, moaning slightly as he pushed into her. "Yes…Alize…Yes…"

"Voldemort!" she cried as he filled her, lifting her hips to welcome him into her body.

He pounded against her, holding her down. "You are…perfection."

"_Je ne peux pas! Je ne peux pas attendre_, Voldemort!" she wailed, her head falling back.

"Then don't. Do not wait. I command you."

A shriek of raw, unrestrained pleasure rocketed through the room as her back arched against the bed, bowing practically in half as she came. Her body clenched his and did not slacken, holding him firmly within her. Her orgasm incited his own as he held her against him. "Mine," he hissed in Parseltongue.

"_Vôtre_," she whispered, the barest of breaths. Her body sagged into the mattress and her warm breath rushed across his forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed on a sigh. "_Vôtre_…"

He rolled off of her, laying at her side as he turned to watch her. "You are beautiful."

"Thank you." Her eyes lifted to his again. She seemed completely spent by her orgasm, which, if it had been anything like his own, had been almost overwhelmingly intense.

"You will stay with me this weekend. Rest now. We will rest together."

"Yes," she whispered and then her eyes fluttered closed again.

He held her close to him as he fell asleep.

Later that day found Alize curled up in Voldemort's study, absently stroking Nagini as she studied her Potions textbook.

"What are you playing at, you deceitful little bitch?"

"Good evening, Bellatrix," Alize said without looking up from her book. Nagini curled protectively around her and she tried to calm the snake with soothing strokes.

"You are using my Lord for your own purposes. What are your motives?"

"To get an O on my next exam." She looked up at her. "And you are making that difficult."

"You are still a little schoolgirl," she sneered. "How can you possibly love him as I do?"

"I don't recall Voldemort ever mentioning any such affection for you."

Her eyes crackled with flames. "You blasphemous bitch! How dare you speak of our Lord in this way or try to guess at his intentions."

Alize sighed, standing up from the chair and moving off toward the door. "You are getting on my nerves."

"You are making me very angry. My husband, incompetent oaf that he is, was sent to Azkaban today. But because of you I cannot take full advantage of this opportunity."

"I don't care."

"You should. I know you are not true with my Lord."

"And there you go with questioning again, Bellatrix. You must enjoy being punished." She pushed open the door, planning on exiting the room. Bellatrix grabbed her arm, glaring down at her.

"He may believe you, but I know better, you little slut."

"Let go of me," Alize said, her voice like ice.

"Make me." She pressed her wand into Alize's chest. Alize did not draw her own. Instead, she lifted her hand and curled it around the end of Bellatrix's wand. There was a creaking noise and then a snap as Bellatrix's wand snapped into a hundred small pieces from the force of the pressure applied to it. The pieces left in Alize's hand were ground down into dust.

"Do not touch me again," Alize said tonelessly. "You won't like what happens next." She turned, stepping out of the room. Before she left, she turned back. "Here, you can have your wand back," she said, raising her hand to her lips and blowing the fine dust from her fingers toward Bellatrix. Glancing over at Nagini, Alize gestured to her to follow, and then she and the giant snake both disappeared.  
Voldemort appeared from elsewhere in the house. "What is going on here?"

"It is the girl, Master…she…she disrespected you…and then broke my wand."

He held her gaze, finding the scene for himself. "I do not see how she has disrespected me, Bellatrix. But you have disrespected her." He raised his wand before pointing it towards her. "_Crucio."_

She bent over in pain, clutching her stomach. "Master." He intensified the spell so that the only sound she could make was a pained gasp. She collapsed to the floor.

"Leave my betrothed alone, Bellatrix, for your own safety."

He turned from her, walking toward his bedroom. "You are no longer allowed to enter my private rooms."

When he entered his bedroom, he found Alize laying on her stomach across the bed with Nagini, studying her Potions book once more.

"Good evening." For the first time, when he beckoned to Nagini, she did not come, contentedly laying with Alize.

"Evening," she responded, glancing up at him. She made no move to tell him what had happened. Bellatrix had been all too eager to win him to her favor in the matter the first chance she got. Alize was confident that he had dealt with the matter on his own and would accept whatever he had chosen.

"You are quite strong. I applaud you," he spoke in Parseltongue.

"Thank you. I have been training a long time." She set her book aside and sat up to face him.

He smiled, stepping closer. "You shall learn the language of snakes so that we may speak privately."

She seemed to brighten at the idea. "I've always wanted to learn."

"I shall do my best to teach you." He sat beside her. "I trust you, Alize, you know this."

"I do." She looked up at him from between her lashes.

"I wish to impart on you the secrets of my past. We are lovers, yet you do not even know my age. My name."

"I will never tell another soul," she vowed.

"I was born Tom Marvolo Riddle. When I turned 17, I did away with the filthy, common name of my father. I rearranged the letters of the name to create a new one. One that I knew would one day bring fear and awe to wizards and witches throughout the world."

She nodded, showing him she understood, without pressing him to continue.

"This was 30 years ago."

"You are…thirty years older than me?"

"In a sense. I am perpetually 17 years old. I do not age. That is the year I created my first Horcrux."

He saw understanding flash in her eyes. Of course _she _would know what they were. She was extremely intelligent and curious. He doubted anyone else in his ranks would know should he tell them.

"I have made four others since and plan to make another."

"Your goal is to make all seven?"

"A powerful number in the world. It symbolizes greatness. Thus the seven years of schooling and 17 as the year you come of age."

"Yes, that makes sense."

"I shall have seven souls. No one could ever defeat me." He stroked Nagini as he spoke.

She pondered what he'd said for several long moments, then finally said, "Brilliant."

He smiled. "Lay back, Alize."

She did as he asked, sliding further onto the bed and stretching out to look up at him. Nagini slithered across the bed to rest upon his shoulders as he leaned over to kiss her.

"Mm," she breathed into his mouth, her lips falling apart. He spoke to Nagini, commanding her to move out of the way as he removed their clothes with his wand. Alize's eyes lifted to his as she bit her lip, her cheeks already flaming with arousal.

He held her gaze as he rolled onto his back. She was so sensitive, so easy to arouse and control.

He slid his hand down her side. He pulled her on top of him, thrusting up into her with a sigh of contentment. Her wet heat welcomed him as faithfully as always. Alize's eyes snapped shut as she cried out at the intense pleasure rolling through her from that one powerful thrust.

"Always so good," he hissed in his most natural language.

"Yes," she breathed, rolling her hips as he was buried inside her.

He moaned, rocking against her faster and faster. "Perfect."

"Perfect," she echoed, growing delirious. He exploded within her, each orgasm with her as good as, if not better than, the last. He clutched her behind as he held her to him, kissing her neck and chest. When the pleasure finally left her body she collapsed against him, unable to hold herself upright. She was completely limp against him, almost crumpled, and her chest heaved, struggling to draw air into her lungs. Sweat damp hair, the color of rubies, clung to his bare skin. His chin, his neck, his chest, his hips and thighs.

"You shall be my wife. We shall rule together," he breathed. Her beautiful eyes rose to his and his own latched onto those striking jade green depths. The most intriguing eyes he had ever seen. He remembered reading an account that wrote Merlin himself had had similar eyes. Honest eyes, piercing eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered and it took him a moment to realize she'd said it in Parseltongue.

A slow smile spread across his face. "So intelligent," he whispered. Her head lowered to his chest again and she lay there for a long time, not saying anything, as her body settled, her lungs returned to normal, and her heartbeat slowly began to beat in sync with his. He merely held her, feeling at ease as he always did around her. As she slipped into slumber, her body sagged against his. Eventually he was supporting all of her weight, and found that it amounted to very little. When she took a deep breath, her stomach twitched against his skin, and he was able to feel her Mark rubbing playfully against his own flesh. He'd known from the very beginning she would be unlike any other and he had been unable to resist marking her in a place no one else had been. He eventually joined her in sleep, still holding her against him.


	6. Chapter 6

Alize was mumbling in her sleep. In Parseltongue. He smiled, listening to her words with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

"No," she whispered once or twice. "Please," a few times. But the things she spoke the most often were "Voldemort" and "My Lord".

He slipped from beneath her, dressing and standing to her side. He knew most of his followers disagreed with his decision, but no opinion mattered but his own. He truly felt he could trust her. He was certain of it.

"_Avec moi_," she whispered in French, rolling over. Her arms reached for where he had been sleeping, finding it empty. She was still asleep but searching for him. "_Soyez avec moi…Mon Seigneur_."

_With me…Be with me…My Lord… _

He lay beside her again. She was adorable, and so young. She was so open and honest with him. He did not have to worry of what falsehoods hid behind her words. She curled instantly into his side, as though she'd been doing it all her life. Her small head rested on his chest, beneath his heart.

He watched her, feeling slightly wary of how _unwary_ he was with her. It was an odd thought that he didn't ever feel worried around her.

"_J'aime_…" the softly whispered word rushed warm and strong across his skin.

He frowned at those words. They had been spoken about him, rarely to him. His followers telling each other how much they loved him more than the next. He had never believed in love, never felt the stirrings of those tender, weak emotions he'd come to despise.

"_S'il vous plaît pas. S'il vous plaît ..._" Please do not…Please.

He pulled her to him, brushing her luscious red hair back from her face. She grew more restless every second, as though caught in the throes of a nightmare. He held her tightly, kissing her nose. As he touched her, she calmed, returning once more to her peaceful slumber. He smiled. How could he have lived all these years without her? She seemed his perfect companion. She was pure, strong, honest, beautiful… He remembered her whispered words from earlier. "_Vôtre_." _Yours_. She was willing to do so much for him. Anything, it would seem. Perhaps, soon, he would discover just how much she would do. He fell asleep with her in his arms and a smile on his face.

He couldn't keep his hands off of her. It seemed his appetite had come roaring to life when she'd joined him, and now it was insatiable. No sooner had he met the peak of ecstasy than he wanted to meet it again, and then again. Every little thing set off his ardor. Right now, it was the sound of water running into the bath in his personal bathroom. He approached the door, stepping through it calmly as he removed his clothing, quietly moving behind her to pull her into his arms. She let out a soft gasp of surprise as his arms wrapped around her bare body. The steam wafting up from the bath had curled her hair even further, making it stick in soft tendrils to her cheeks.

He kissed the back of her throat sucking hard on her skin. "I hope you do not presume to bathe without me."

"Of course not, my Lord," she said with a smile.

"You should use my name."

She looked up at him over her shoulder. "Will you join me in my bath, Voldemort?"

"You need not have asked. I am already here."

She turned off the tap and stepped one foot into the water, then the other, before sinking down so the frothy, steaming liquid hid her naked body from view. He joined her, sliding his body against hers. Crossing her arms over her chest, Alize laid back slowly, so her back laid on the surface of the water and her long hair sunk beneath it, floating in the clear liquid in dark swirls, looking just like blood drifting through the water. He wrapped his body around hers, his hands caressing her beautiful hair, floating around him.

"Voldemort," she breathed in his ear.

"You know how much I enjoy the sound of that."

"I will say it as many times as you desire, so long as it continues to give you pleasure." She tilted her head back in order to meet his eyes. The water rose to her eyebrows. "Voldemort…Voldemort…Voldemort…."

He chuckled. "Beautiful, Alize. It will never cease to give me pleasure."

She smiled at him and her smile did not waver as she allowed the water to engulf her completely, dragging her down to the bottom of the tub.

He followed her down, kissing her under the water, down her body. It was the oddest sensation. With the water enveloping them, there was a more complete silence than he'd ever experienced, and the warmth caressed his skin as he caressed hers. He did not notice his burning lungs as he trailed his lips down her body and she made no move to surface for air. Beneath the water they had found a little haven that was all their own. They were completely alone here. Together, but alone. He realized he only knew peace when alone with her. He had been troubled, restless since early childhood, for as long as he can remember. He had allowed the anxiety, the restlessness for it helped him in his tasks, especially the unsavory ones. However around Alize…he felt at peace. The pain of his straining lungs burst through his thoughts. He surfaced again, looking down at her as he sucked in a breath. He wondered if she trusted him enough to allow him to hold her beneath the water, hold her down so she had no way of surfacing for breath unless he allowed her to. He watched her hungrily for a moment before pulling her up to him to kiss her, then lowered her back into the water, his eyes holding hers. She rested comfortably against the bottom of the bath, her body completely relaxed as she looked up at him through the warm liquid.

He moved to straddle her body as he held her under, sliding into her. Her eyes continued to hold his, and as she was unable to move or make a sound, they were the only way he could tell that passion and pleasure had overtaken her. The second her body enveloped his manhood, the pale depths blazed, growing darker by the second. He thrust into her as he watched those enchanting eyes full of desire. She was a vision straight from the heavens. A mysterious goddess, lying beneath the ocean's surface, her wild hair forming a large halo of blood around her head. She did not struggle against him. When there was no more oxygen left in her lungs to hold, her lips parted. But still, her body remained relaxed. Her face stayed serene. He released her, pulling her up out of the water while he continued to rock his hips against hers. "You trust too…too easily…I could have…easily ended your life…"

"I know," she whispered, dragging in a deep breath of air slowly through her lips.

"But you did not struggle." He very near collapsed on top of her from the pleasure he was feeling.

"Why would I…when I know…very clearly…that…my fate is yours…to decide?"

"You are truly the greatest among my servants."

She smiled, unable to form any coherent words at the point. The desire leaped up in her, reducing her to nothing more than shallow pants and long moans. He ravaged her more than once over the course of their "bath" and when he was finally satisfied enough to leave the water, he stepped from the tub. Behind him, Alize was unable to move. She'd been brought to orgasm so many times, her legs were useless. She had already been more sensitive than any he'd known but every orgasm that raced through her added to it until she'd come to the point where even the slightest brushing of his thumb on her arm would trigger another thunderous peak within her. He lifted her from the tub, carrying her back to the bedroom. "You are a very clever girl. I do enjoy some of your ideas."

Her only response was a series of short, hoarse gasps as with each step she came again.

He smiled as he lay her upon the bed. "You should take a little time to relax."

"Y-yes," she whispered breathlessly, sinking down into the mattress.

"Although I don't yet feel like stopping."

Her head fell back against the pillow and she made a whimpered yelp as his words alone forced her body to quiver with pleasure again.

He brushed his hand through her hair, kissing her before slipping from the room, calling his clothes to himself with a flick of his wand. "I shall return for you."

She nodded slowly, one blood red strand of hair falling across her nose and cheek. He would never forget this image in all his life. His most beautiful, most perfect servant sprawled across his bed, her bare body glimmering with thousands of little water droplets that caught the light and made her vibrant hair shine bright against his white sheets. He entered his private study, unsurprised to find Bellatrix sulking in the room. "I have told you, Bellatrix, that you are forbidden from these rooms. You undermine my authority by disobeying."

"I am very sorry, my Lord, I mean no disrespect, but the whore…the Mistress…has a letter waiting for her." She smirked up at him. This could obviously not mean anything good. She was trying to start trouble.

He took her arm firmly, nearly crushing her wrist. "How many times must I tell you to respect my choice, Bellatrix? Must you always bring pain and agony to yourself? I should think you were enjoying it." He dragged her down into the deepest dungeons. "You call her a whore. You who would sleep with another man as your husband is just upstairs."

"Not another _man_, a god. My Lord, and my lord alone."

"Treacherous whore."

She threw the letter at him. "Read for yourself, my Lord. She has deluded you."

"I will hear no more slander against my betrothed." He waved his wand and her mouth snapped shut. He spun away from her, returning to where Alize lay across his bed. He knew her to be innocent.

As he stormed into the room she awoke, her sleep dazed eyes lifting to his. Immediately that sense of peace overcame him.

"You have received post," he murmured, glancing at the address.

"Here?" she asked drowsily as she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"It has been brought by Wormtail, I presume."

"Who is it from?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Young Sirius Black," he said, flatly. "Bellatrix seems to believe it contains proof of your treachery."

She scowled. "Throw it away. I don't want to read it."

"As you wish." He raised his wand so that the letter disintegrated.

"Thank you." She suppressed a yawn, stretching languidly before looking back up at him.

"Are you relaxed now?" He moved to lay beside her.

"Very. I have never slept so soundly in my life."

"I am glad you find such solace in my bedroom."

"I think the solace came from what your body did to mine," she murmured.

"I will continue to do the same whenever you wish."

She shivered, her teeth scraping across her bottom lip as she watched him silently.

"The ceremony must, of course, be private…by the time of our wedding, I shall have seized control of the Ministry, if all goes as planned."

"I understand."

He kissed her, running his tongue across her perfect blood-red lips. Her warm breath hit his tongue as those lips parted. A soft moan vibrated in her throat and her eyes drifted closed.

"My little fiancée," he murmured. "Speak to me of anything that crosses your mind."

"I'm going to come," she confessed on a whimper.

"Already, my dear?" He reached to touch her. "You are quite sensitive, deliciously so."

It was the first time he had ever touched a woman in such a way. He had never cared about bringing his partners pleasure. But his soft strokes on Alize's over sensitive flesh brought no physical pleasure to himself, only her. She collapsed, able to form only one shriek, so loud he was sure it echoed all the way down to the dungeons, as her orgasm ripped through her. Her whole body seized, spasming, trembling, wildly out of control. Even as she was still caught within the tumult of passion caused by her orgasm, he slowly slipped his finger inside of her, urging her onto more. She lay across his bed, writhing, her chest heaving, her eyes rolled back in her head. Her fingers gripped his sheets so tightly he heard them rending apart. Her tight little sheath laid siege on his finger, spasming over and over and over without letting up. He slid his finger back out of her and traced over her dark mark with it. "You will always belong to me and no other."

The pain that raced through her, the burning that shot both upward and downward, could not surpass the pleasure. Though her sex now ached with both pain and ecstasy, she forced herself to remain focused enough to nod in solemn understanding.

He sat up, looking over the object of his intense admiration. She drove him to great lengths merely to please her. And she never disappointed with her responses. Even now she lay panting on his bed, struggling to remain conscious against the onslaught of overwhelming ecstasy and the agony that still throbbed within her mark from his wet fingertip tracing the lines. His hand rested softly on her side as he pulled her closer, resting his head where her neck met her shoulder as he kissed her skin. She made a soft content sound in his ear, even as her body trembled from the small contact.

"Do you love me, dear child?"

"Yes," she confessed in the barest whisper.

"Why do you say this? What proof is there of love?"

"I don't have anything to show you other than that I crave you. You relax me, you excite me, you manipulate me in ways I did not know were possible. I have no control of myself any more, it all belongs to you." She shifted beside him so her eyes could rise to meet his. "I know only what my body tells me. I cannot give you anything that you can see with your own eyes and for that I beg your forgiveness."

"You need not beg anything. If you believe it is so… I trust you. Though I shall never return the feeling."

"I've understood that from the beginning, my Lord…Voldemort."

"This does not discourage you."

"No."

"You are strong-willed, but I already knew this."

"I can't blame you for not returning my feelings. I never asked you to love me and I won't make it a condition of my happiness. I am more than content with my world as it is now."

"I believe it is time for supper. If you wish to dine in private, I shall bring some food to you."

"That won't be necessary…I'm not hungry."

"I haven't seen you eat."

"Because I haven't."  
"Why is this?"

"I do not get hungry as often as others do. It could be days before I need to eat again."

"That does not sound safe or healthy. You should not starve."

"I'm not starving. My body doesn't need it."

"Are you quite certain?" He grasped her chin so that he could look into her mind for an answer. He saw the starvation inflicted by her father, attempting to ignore the violence that had sometimes joined it. He watched her growing skinnier over time until she was no more than a skeleton. And then he saw her weight return to normal only after she'd left the confines of the man's home.

He pulled out of her memories, now just looking into her eyes. "Do you wish to be rid of this man? I would kill for you, Alize."

He could see the desire in her eyes though she gave no clear answer. "I know you would."

He watched her for a moment. "I killed my father. And grandparents. And my deranged grandfather took the blame."

She shook her head slowly. "My hesitation is not because he is my father."

"You can take your time. We have eternity."

She paused then said, "He is considered to be the world's greatest Auror. I have no doubt that your abilities far out match his but the backlash over such a death would be great. Especially because he is the heir to the Warren throne. I just…don't wish to create any complications for you."

"Such a thing would be a small price to pay for your happiness."

"I am content for the moment."

"If you should ever change your mind." He embraced her. "Tomorrow night you must return."

She let out a sad sigh as her arms lifted to hold him as well. "I forgot…"

"You will come back to me so that I may say good evening to you, every night. And Friday evening, you will return for the weekend."

"Of course." She laid her head down on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"We shall enjoy tonight and tomorrow before you must go."

She smiled. "As my Lord desires."

"I always desire you."

Her smile widened. "I've noticed."

"You seem pleased by the fact."

"Yes."

"Tell me why." He smirked slightly, his eyes holding her gaze.

"Because I am vain and I like being the object of your lust."

He smiled, leaning to kiss her. "That which I have never felt for any other."

"And I always desire you as well, Voldemort," she whispered against his lips.

"Yes, I've noticed."

"_Prends-moi, s'il vous plaît_." The soft breath of her words fell across his chest. "Voldemort…"

He moaned, sliding his body against hers. "You always know what to say, Alize." He embraced her tightly as he took her with one quick thrust, kissing her lips heatedly.


	7. Chapter 7

"I missed seeing your beauty. I felt like a flower without the sun…that was pretty good, eh, Moony?"

Alize scowled at them, moving to pass them in the hall on her way to the Quidditch Pitch. She ignored them, her mind on other, more important things.

"Come on, you can at least talk to me…I swear I won't hit on you."

"I have a feeling that would only get me into a fuck ton of trouble," she muttered, absently stroking the snake shaped clasp that held her robe closed.

"We're friends…kind of…"

A sarcastic snort was the only response he was given as she darted away, heading off toward the pitch to release some of the tension that had been gnawing at her all day.

"I think you should leave her alone. She obviously wants someone else," Peter said behind her in a high-pitched, nervous voice.

Alize glanced back at him over her shoulder then quickly away, rushing ahead to slip outside ahead of them. She slipped out onto the grass and slammed the door shut in their faces, locking it from the outside.

"Really Wormy, who cares? If I can win her over…"

"She's in a relationship…she's happy…it would seem."

"No one can be happy with Snape…"

"Whoever said it was Snape?" He promptly looked away nervous and afraid he'd said too much.

Alize ignored the voices filtering through the wood and strode onto the pitch. She unfastened her robe and carefully folded it, setting it aside. Beneath she wore her typical work out ensemble of a simple pair of shorts, a red tank top, and bare feet. She didn't much feel like doing sit ups while her Dark Mark still burned so she pulled out her wand and used it to play a song she had often danced to it, immediately falling into the routine as she danced across the pitch. Sirius didn't give up, heading to a different door outside. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to find a way onto the pitch but he did. And as he wandered toward her, he felt his breath escape him. She was utterly enchanting, each movement beautiful. He moved silently to the edge of the pitch, sitting to watch her. She must've been dancing for over an hour, moving from song to song without pause, when she finally stopped and the music disappeared. Panting, she brushed pieces of her red hair out of her eyes, her shirt riding up as she did. The barest glimpse of something black could be seen just above her waistband across the sliver of skin that was revealed. "Hey, sexy," he called with a grin.

She scowled at him, bending to snatch up her wand. "I thought I asked you to leave me alone."

"I didn't bother you."

"You're stalking me." She pulled her robe on, hurriedly fastening it closed over her revealing outfit. The flash of black was gone before he could get a good enough look at it to determine what it was.

"Hardly. I was concerned for your well-being…hanging around all of those Slytherins and I hadn't seen you for days…you weren't even in the castle…so yes I was worried…"

"Obviously I'm fine." She headed off toward the castle. "And I won't be spending any of my weekends in the castle. Now that you know, you'll never have to worry about me again."

"You have to be careful with them. They're Death Eaters…the whole lot of them…I don't want your beautiful ass to get hurt."

If he only knew. "I can take care of myself, thank you."

"I know…but they're bad people…I've seen a dozen of them with the mark," he'd dropped his voice to a whisper. "Snape too…I haven't seen it…but I know he is…they kill innocent people…they could hurt you."

She glanced back at him and dropped her voice so it matched his. "I'm not afraid."

He stared at her incredulously. "Am I really that bad?"

"My friends have nothing to do with you. But you are annoying and you can be a bit of an ass and I have no desire to get into trouble because of you."

"I wouldn't get you in trouble. Trust me, one night and you'd never regret it." He winked at her.

She turned away again. "You're wasting your time. I'm taken."

"By who?"

"It's none of your business, is it?" She headed off toward the building, her black and white robes whipping around her.

"I bet I'm better. It's Snivellus, isn't it?"

"First of all, don't call him that. Second, it's none of your business. And third, no."

"You could've just given me a chance…"

"I did. And you ruined it."

"He'll never know…"

She gaped at him. "You…Are you really…Did you seriously…YOU'RE AN IDIOT!"

"What…?"

"Do you really think I am the kind of girl who'd sneak around behind her lover's back with any pretty faced boy?" she spit out, fuming. "I have never been so offended in my life!"

"I didn't really think that…I…I was…joking…"

"You are _infuriating_!" she said, then stormed off in a flurry of black and white cloth.

"But I love you!"

"Well that went well," he heard James say to Remus and Peter behind him.

"Fuck you, bastard…I give up…it'll never happen…"

"Come on, Padfoot…I've got a plan," James said, smiling. "Let's not give up yet, okay? You've still got five more years before you're allowed to."

"She hates me…she really hates me…"

"If she hated you she would've said so. When you asked if you were that bad she said only that you can be 'a bit of an ass'. That's not hatred, my friend. That's hope."

He smiled. "You're right. I'm Sirius fucking Black and I'll get any woman I want."

"It will probably take time. You'll have to wait until she isn't dating who ever this man is for you to make your first real move."

"But that could be forever…"

"But it gives you time to change her opinion of you."

"Alright…I'll try…damn this fucking sucks."

"Welcome to unrequited love, my friend," James said, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder. "We all knew Karma would come back to bite you in the ass."

"Fuck you."

Alize stormed away from the pitch, fuming over the encounter with Sirius. Who the fuck did he think he was? Cornering her like that…Flirting with her when he knew she was taken…Insinuating such ridiculous things…

"FUCK!" she screamed upon hearing her bones crack. She cradled her hand to her chest, realizing her wrist was broken, as were several fingers and bones in her hand. She'd slammed her fist into the wall without a thought. She kept forgetting just how strong those limbs were.

"_Shit_," she cursed, now even angrier at the fucking mutt as she walked off toward the Gryffindor common room. She bypassed everyone and went straight for the dorm, hoping no one noticed the now black, blue, and purple limb. She crawled into her bed and threw the pillows and blankets over her head. She fell asleep forty minutes later, still thinking of new insults to call Sirius Black the next time she saw him.

Voldemort stood in his study, doing everything he could to distract himself from the desire to call Alize. He'd paced, tortured Bellatrix, read a book. Nothing worked. He'd been longing for her presence all day. But he knew he couldn't summon her until nightfall unless he had a really good reason to. Wasn't wanting her good enough? He was the Master…He was forty-seven years old, not seventeen. _Control yourself._ If he summoned her before nightfall, the chance of someone discovering she had run off was much higher. He only summoned her at night because he knew almost everyone back at Hogwarts would be asleep, or would assume she was asleep if they couldn't find her. He sighed, looking up at the clock. Perhaps he'd take a nap…that should help.

When he entered his room to lie down on his bed, he found that he'd been foolish in his thinking. The sheets and blankets smelled of Alize and he could not help but be reminded of what had taken place in that bed when he saw the long tears her fingers had made in his sheets. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath so he could take in the smell of her. God how could he wait for her…? It was impossible. His need was too great. He stepped from the bedroom, leaning against the door. "Nagini!" he called, so that his snake wound around him. "I feel I will surely die from this…" he spoke in Parseltongue.

He had two hours until the sun disappeared. How on Earth would he survive them? He thought of their wedding, their marriage. They'd make the perfect union, much, much better than Bellatrix and Rudolfus. He could think of no one better to rule with him in this kingdom he was crafting.

"She is perfection, Nagini, and everyone knows that she is. But how will I survive these next two hours to make it to our wedding day?"

He was going to have to learn. He would be experiencing the same situation the next night, and the night after that as well. He paced again, stroking Nagini, trying to think of ways to quell the hunger until he could bring her home. As he paced and pondered, two hours, and then three, passed without him noticing.

He looked at the time then rushed to his bed, calling to her. She arrived as quickly as always, appearing beside his bed in the robe he had given her. She was still half asleep and she raised one hand to shield her dazed, sleep sensitive eyes from the light that filled his bedroom. He pulled her to himself onto the bed, dimming the lights.

"Good evening," she whispered, lowering the hand that had been covering her eyes. Her other hand, he noticed for the first time, was tucked into one of her pockets.

"Evening. Shall I punish him for causing you pain?"

She didn't ask him how he knew, simply withdrew her hand, which she appeared to have forgotten about as she slept, from her pocket. "I did it to myself."

"Yes, but it was his fault. He disrespected me."

"He did, didn't he? Do what pleases you, my Lord."

He smiled. "I shall do that tonight. Over and over until you scream for it to stop…"

She sucked in a sharp breath at the image. "I would never ask you to stop," she breathed.

"Perfect. Let us get to it then."

"Please…"

It was only several hours' worth of "please" later that Voldemort seemed satisfied enough to withdraw. Once he did, he remembered her hand, which at that point, was more blue than white.

He lay at her side to examine it, gently kissing her fingers before pulling out his wand to heal it. She had much too much strength if she could do that to herself. Nearly every bone in her hand and wrist had been broken. "You must be careful. I understand your frustration but that is not a reason to hurt yourself. It is a reason to hurt him…"

"It's a reflex at this point. I didn't even realize I'd punched the wall until my hand started hurting." She flexed her fingers, which were all still purple and would be for a while. He kissed her softly.

"I do not wish to see my betrothed broken because of another. He shall regret his actions."

She smiled, twirling her hand to test her wrist. There was a small crack as freshly mended bones settled into place.

"I believe you should go back now. It is quite late."

A small pout fell on her lips but she admitted he was right and rose to dress and be sent back. He pulled her close to kiss her. "Good evening."

"Pleasant dreams, my Lord," she murmured against his lips.

"And to you, my Queen." With that, he dismissed her.

Exhausted, Alize tumbled into bed and slept until noon.


	8. Chapter 8

"Go," Sirius heard James hiss when he saw Alize walk down the dormitory steps, stumbling a bit. "Don't forget what I told you."

"Alright, alright…" He took a deep, steadying breath and smoothed down his hair before approaching her. "Alize," he said, smiling charmingly. "You know you're completely right about me. I'm a total ass and I shouldn't have been treating you like that. I know you're seeing someone and I respect that. I'll…stop flirting and I'll try to stop being so infuriating. I'm sorry. Truce?"

She eyed him warily, her eyes still a bit drowsy from sleep. She still didn't trust him.

"I promise I'm not over here to cause trouble. I just want some help… I heard you're really great with Potions."

"I am," she said reluctantly, tucking one hand in her pocket.

"I'm not…I was just wondering if you could help me study…you see, I can't get dropped…I need this class… I promise I will be on my best behavior…"

"Once," she said after a minute. "That's all." _I'm going to get into so much trouble for this_…

He grinned with a triumphant look in his eye. "Thank you so much…"

"_Best _behavior," she warned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. As she moved to tuck her hand back into her pocket, he realized why she'd been hiding it. From her fingers down to her wrist and every inch of skin in between was covered in blue and purple bruises so dark they were nearly black.

"Promise…I won't even tell you how beautiful I think you look right now…"

"Be very careful what you say around me," she said, then turned on her heel, heading for the Portrait Hole.

He followed after her. "Alright…I'll try…"

She ignored him as she walked to the Great Hall, where they were serving lunch. He'd hoped she would sit where he could talk to her more and was more than a bit frustrated when she walked over to the Slytherin table to join her friends.

"What the fuck does she even see in those creeps? My brother's one of them…it's disgusting…"

Remus and James both shrugged.

"Good afternoon," Alize said cheerfully, slipping into the seat between Regulus and Severus.

"Afternoon," Regulus said excitedly. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Alize asked, reaching for some of the food that was just out of her reach. Her bruised hand strained but she'd have to stand in order to grab it.

"You and Bellatrix," he whispered, glancing around. "Heard you got in a row…"

"Oh, that. Well…yeah, kinda." She lifted her knees so she was kneeling on the bench and reached for the plate again.

"She tried to curse you…and you broke her wand…and then the Dark Lord himself locked her in the dungeons, after inflicting the Cruciatis."

"All true." She dragged the heavy plate toward herself with both hands.

"Wow…you really broke it…? Pettigrew said he saw you…crushed it into dust, he said…"

"Also true."

"You are an amazing woman, Alize, I commend you."

"Thank you." After all that work in order to get the food the plate offered, she took only the tiniest amount of it to eat.

"How pissed did she look?"

"Like she would have strangled me if I hadn't walked away."

"I love it…that bitch has been asking for it…"

"I don't take too kindly to being called a whore…or a liar." She reached over and took a sip of her water with her bruised hand, then lifted her fork to eat the miniscule amount of food she'd placed on her own plate.

"She's just jealous. Who wouldn't be, really?"

"Good point. But she still could have had at least some tact."

"I think she deserves everything she got."

"I do too."

"The Lord didn't mind…so no harm done…except…your hand…what happened anyway…? Did she do something to you?"

"This?" She laughed, shaking her head. "I did it to myself."

"How? Is it alright?"

"I punch walls when I'm angry. And yes, it has been healed already."

"Damn…must've punched it hard…"

His friend slid into the seat next to him and Regulus nodded almost imperceptibly.

"So it's all true…?"

"I mean if I'm strong enough to grind a wand into dust with one hand, I'm pretty sure this should be no surprise," she said, twirling her hand around.

Drake looked up at her wide-eyed. "Wow…I swear…I think I'm in love…" Regulus elbowed him and he nearly fell from his seat, laughing. "Yeah, I know…I know…Can't I make a joke…?"

"I know when you're joking, Drake. Of course _everyone's_ in love with her…"

"You two flat- Shit, gotta go." She jumped up and ran from the room, holding her hand over her mouth. She'd barely eaten any of the food on her plate.

They watched after her, confused before returning to their own food.

Alize sat alone in the common room that night, curled up on the couch in her nightgown as she awaited her summons. A book was open in her lap and as she turned the page, the terrible nausea she'd been experiencing off and on all day roared up again. Cursing, she ran for the bathroom, abandoning her book on the couch.

Sirius sat down in her seat looking through the book she'd left, waiting for her to return. "What if they never break up? What if she loves him?"

"First relationships _always _end," James reassured him.

"But…how do you _know_? I need to know for sure…I'm wasting my time…"

James sighed. "I'm starting to think you don't really love this girl at all."

"I do…but…I'm going to get hurt if l let myself believe something will happen when it doesn't."

James shrugged. "It's up to you."

"I need her to love me…but she _hates _me…"

"Haven't we been over this? If she hated you she wouldn't have agreed to help you."

"She's a nice person…"

James rolled his eyes. "Alright, then. I guess we're giving up."

"No we're not. I won't give up until she drives a stake through my heart…"

"You are fucked up, my friend. Fucked up."

"I know…but you love me right?"

"Course I do," James said. "I'm fucked up too."

Alize felt the summons as she leaned over the toilet for the fifteenth time that day. She was unable to answer it as she was and quickly felt the pain escalate. The burning grew more and more awful by the second, only adding to the nausea. She couldn't move, she could barely breathe as the retching continued, and she was unable to stop it. Sweat beaded all across her body. Her mind spun, dizzy, delirious as black spots bloomed in her vision. The pain leaped up, even worse, making the black spots darken, inching across her vision. Her lungs heaved, unable to grasp enough air to sustain her. All she could think of was the vicious pain tearing her apart the longer she knelt there. She wanted to answer the summons. She always wanted to answer the summons. But this time she was physically incapable of doing so. The agony was a fitting punishment for her weakness. She only wished she were able to correct it. But she could not. She could barely keep her heart beating at that moment. The pain flared up again. Her hands hit the floor and then her head as the darkness overtook her, dragging her down into unconsciousness.

Voldemort was extremely worried. He had called for Alize, yet she hadn't come. He changed tactics, calling Wormtail, so that he could check on her. The only reason he could fathom for her not coming to his calls would be that she was hurt.

"M-master?"  
"Where is Alize Warren?" he demanded quietly.

"I…I do not kn-know, Master…"

"Find her. Immediately."

He dismissed him, pacing his room as he waited. It was an agonizing thirty minutes but eventually Wormtail returned, holding an unconscious Alize in his arms.

He took her into his room, laying her across the bed. "What happened? What happened to her?" He held his wand over her.

"I d-don't know, m-my Lord. She…sh-she was just l-laying there…on the b-bathroom f-floor…"

He took in a deep breath, before dismissing Wormtail, feeling he had no more to offer and summoning Rockwell, one of the few Healers among his forces. "Your assistance is required, Rockwell. Immediately."

"Y-Yes, my Lord." He moved over to the bed, swallowing as he leaned over Alize to examine her.

"Tell me the damage."

Rockwell's hands shook as he lifted her nightgown and silently examined her. A few minutes later, he cleared his throat, trembling even more.

"I s-see malnutrition, my L-Lord. St-starvation…dehydration…" He recalled how Alize had told him she didn't need to eat. He knew she would never lie to him willingly. If she said she wasn't hungry, she wasn't hungry. She must truly believe that since she wasn't hungry or thirsty, her body didn't need the nourishment. "Sh-she is not w-with child…at least as far as I c-can tell…I do not kn-know enough of her history t-to tell for c-certain…" Rockwell looked up at him with just a little curiosity as he said it.

"You are not certain," he said slowly, holding his gaze, looking at him with disapproval.

Rockwell flinched and he licked his dry lips nervously. "If…If she has o-only recently begun to h-have sex my…my Lord…She c-could be…p-p…" he had to pry his tongue off the rough of his mouth to say the word, "pregnant and it would be…i-impossible to tell for s-sure…for several m-more w-weeks…"

"And until then, she should do what?"

"E-eat well…C-clear broths at first…until her stomach is u-used to being f-filled. It may prevent m-more…episodes like this…"

"That is all?"

He licked his lips again but nodded.

"Leave."

Rockwell stumbled away and disappeared, still shaking.

He looked down at her for a long moment. She could, quite possibly, be carrying his child. There may, one day soon, be a child, an infant, among his Death Eaters. His. He had never wanted a child. An heir had seemed unnecessary if he lived forever, but the idea still had an appeal. Especially if it was Alize's.

He looked her over. Her hair was damp with sweat around her face, which was paler than usual. It didn't seem possible that she could get any more white than she already was, but she had. Her nightgown clung to the sweat on her body, and the Dark Mark on her navel was so black from calling her multiple times he could see it clearly through the thick material.

He cradled her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. She was his. She would not be returning to Hogwarts until he knew she was safe. And if the Healer was right and she was pregnant, she would not be returning at all. Appearances be damned.

He would make sure she received everything that she needed. If she wanted to learn, she could. But she was not leaving his side. He would need to find a way to keep suspicions low at Hogwarts over the next several weeks, just in case she did return. He could always use his younger followers to help. Severus, Regulus, Wormtail… And if she never returned, there would be a great many questions to answer. But it was necessary. She needed to be cared for.

He would deal with it when he had to. For now he was only concerned with her safety.

Alize awoke in terrible pain. Her stomach roiled, her throat burned as if she'd drank acid and her mouth was so dry her teeth ached. Her head was pounding, throbbing on all sides, and the remnants of a terrible, burning agony remained across her flesh. She pried her tongue from her teeth and sucked in a gasp of air which only made her body ache more.

"You're to stay here. Until I know for certain that you will be alright."

Her eyes fluttered open, taking a long while to focus so she could see her Master's face. When she was finally able to, she nodded weakly, unable to say anything when her throat was raw and her mouth was dry.

"You were starving," he murmured, brushing his hand across her cheek. "I shall watch over you so that I'll know how you are feeling."

She nodded again, just as weakly. The movement made her head spin and her eyes drifted closed again.

He held her against him as he lay beside her. "You may be with child."

Her eyes flew open and she studied him with a look of pure disbelief.

"It is impossible to tell."

"I…am…sixteen," she managed to rasp out in a nearly inaudible whisper.

"I realize this."

"It's too…soon…I've…only just…begun," she croaked, then dissolved into pained coughs.

"Ssh, rest yourself," he said in Parseltongue. "I do not want you to strain your strength."

She took in several deep, slow breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. Pregnant? She'd thought it would be years before she had to worry about such a thing.

"You will have everything you need. Do not think I will not provide."

She shook her head, wanting to speak. But he'd told her not to say anything while she wasn't well.

"We are both beautiful, yes? So our son must be beautiful, too." He smiled at her. She puzzled over his words for a few moments, allowing them to sink in, before smiling as well.

"I know that you love me and will love our son. I respect you. I feel…concern for you…that is enough for a family."

She nodded again. She knew that love didn't always make for a perfect family, she knew it well. This arrangement was just as good.

"I will be a better father than either of ours. I shall swear to it."

She smiled again, lifting her hand as if to touch him. He pressed his hand to hers, threading his fingers between her fingers. They would be married soon and after that, raising a child. It was all very sudden but he wouldn't change it.

He found he truly cared for her, an almost alien feeling to worry over anything beside his own well-being, his own safety. Now he cared for her. And his child.


	9. Chapter 9

The next several weeks were very difficult for Alize. He forced her to eat every two hours, a bowl full of warm broth and a glass of water. Yet no sooner had she forced it down her throat than it came back up again. She was dreadfully ill and had to be confined to her bed. He needn't have made it a rule, however, because she was too weak to even walk on her own. He was forced to care for her completely. She couldn't even bathe without his help.

Voldemort grew increasingly hateful of her father as he felt it was the detestable man's fault that she was in this condition. He had starved her to the point that she no longer even knew when she was hungry. If she had been eating as a normal person was, the situation would be far less drastic.

Eventually the time came for Rockwell to examine her again in order to determine whether she carried his child. At that point she was no better off than when she had been carried into his home unconscious.

"You are not as good as you claim, Rockwell. I should like to know something, but as you have nothing to tell me I am sorely disappointed."

Rockwell flinched beneath Voldemort's words. He licked his dry lips, wringing his hands behind his back. "I w-would know for certain if I-I was a-allowed to do an…internal exam…" he mumbled.

"This is absolutely necessary for you to know?"

"Th-This early…yes…"

"Then you should do this."

"I o-only wish to ask the L-Lady permission. It can be very u-uncomfortable." He looked back at Alize on the bed almost pleadingly. She merely nodded silently but the Healer did not seem any more relaxed.

"You will do your best to make her as comfortable as possible."

"Of c-course, my Lord." He approached the bed slowly, clutching his bag tightly in his fist. He set it down on the floor and pulled out gloves, snapping them into place, before pulling out several harsh looking instruments and a small pen light, which he set on the bed beside him.

"Are you wearing undergarments, my Lady?" he asked softly, somehow no longer nervous as he met her gentle eyes. She shook her head, shifting slightly beneath her blankets.

"I will be gentle, I promise," he said, pushing the blanket up over her legs, and with it, her nightgown. "Bend your knees," he ordered quietly, then readjusted her position when she complied. "You will feel a bit of pressure." He swallowed hard, looking back at the Dark Lord watching ominously behind him, then turned back to his task. He felt physically ill when he pressed his fingers inside her. She was a beautiful girl, but very small and very young. It sickened him, knowing that Voldemort was much, much older than he looked. And he had seduced a child into this life, a life no child should ever have to endure. A life even most adults could not handle. And she was already paying the price for it.

He swallowed hard, trying to remain calm upon feeling how small she was inside. He knew she must be in pain she was so small. But, whether out of generosity or pure strength he could not tell, she made no sound, nor did she appear to be uncomfortable at all. The only sign she gave was a small flinching in her hips when he first pressed into her depths.

"This will only take a moment," he assured her, trying to keep from trembling as he rotated his fingers, searching. She let out a soft sigh, her feet digging into the mattress on either side of him. He brushed up against her cervix, trying to slide only his fingertips against her, hoping it was enough to tell. Unfortunately, it was not. He swallowed hard as the fear over took him. This was going to hurt, but it had to be done. The cervix was the most sensitive part of the female body, so sensitive in fact that it felt almost exclusively pain. Even when touched lightly as he was now. Praying that there would be some miracle that she would not react violently to his prodding, he pushed his finger a bit harder against the spot and felt her recoil. The fear leapt into his throat as she flinched, and let out a small cry of pain.

"You have hurt her."

"I-It w-was n-necessary, my L-Lord…" he breathed, shaking violently. His only solace was that he now knew what he needed to, and would not have to repeat the procedure. Nor would he have to invade her with his instruments.

"Then you had better know something now. Or my wife has suffered in vain."

Relieved that he did, he withdrew from her slowly and lowered her gown and blankets around her legs.

"Sh-She is d-definitely with ch-child, my Lord."

"Now, leave."

He quickly thrust his instruments into his bag, bowed to the Master and his wife, and fled as swiftly as he could manage.

"Now the matter is settled. You will not be returning to school this year."

She smoothed her nightgown down around her legs as she nodded, allowing the knowledge that she was soon to be both a wife and a mother to sink into her mind.

"You are young, yes. But you are ready. I know this. There will be no trouble. I will not allow it."

"Trouble?" she croaked.

"You won't have to worry about anything. Money, time, nothing."

"Thank you," she whispered, giving him a small smile.

"I merely wish for you to be happy."

"I am," she assured him. "I just wish I was healthier."

"As do I." He kissed her then smiled. "Another announcement is to be made," he said in Parseltongue.

She nodded, then reached down to brush her fingertips lightly over the area beside her Dark Mark.

"Will I be there when they are?" she asked, absently stroking the spot.

"I do not like the idea of you being out of bed. But if you wish it…"

"No. You're right. I need to be resting."

"I will tell them of our son. We must begin to plan our union."

She nodded, then smiled softly. "I assume it will not be like other weddings."

"No. It will be special."

"You've thought about it, yes? Will you tell me about it?" She rolled onto her side to look up at him eagerly.

"We shall both be dressed in black. It will be a private ceremony, with only my followers in attendance."

"Black is my color isn't it?" she quipped.

"It is _my _color." He smiled.

"We'll look lovely, I'm sure," she said with a wide grin.

"We always do."

"When?" she asked, sobering a bit. She was calculating in her head when she suspected the child would be due.

"That is what must be decided."

"I turn seventeen January 1st. I'm sure you already knew that."

"Yes I did. I turn 51 just the day before."

"The day before? Really? What an…odd coincidence."

"I suppose it is."

She bit her lip, holding back a smile. "Seventeen is the age of consent. So any time after that but before he's born would be ideal."

"That day itself. Your birthday."

"New Year's."

"That day shall be our wedding."

"Fitting."

He kissed her. "That is suitable."

"Yes." She rubbed her lips where he had kissed her. "What exactly are we going to say is the reason I've suddenly disappeared?"

"Your father has regrettably perished."

"My father?" she asked in surprise. "But he is so famous, they would- Oh," she said as realization dawned on her. "Right. Of course."

He smiled. "Is this agreeable to you?"

"Yes."

"I will take care of the matter soon. The announcement of our child will be tonight and I will instruct Regulus, Severus, and Wormtail as to what to say about your disappearance."

"And when will you be taking care of my father?" she asked.

"In two days. This Sunday."

"I'll remember. Oh…and I have something for you." She reached over and picked up a few pieces of delicate white parchment, edged in gold, which she'd been reading when he'd brought the Healer in. "This came to me today, from my aunt, Marguerite, in France."

He took the parchment, glancing through the sheets. The letter was written entirely in French, in an elegant script similar to Alize's. As he read, he realized the majority of the letter was about him. Her aunt was asking if Alize would be able to glean more information about him now that she lived in Britain. It appeared that her French family had become silent supporters of his campaign.

He smiled, looking up at her. "This may be very helpful. They can attest to the fact that you have stayed with them during the span of your pregnancy. After your father's death…it will minimize questions."

"Having the mighty Celestines on your side might prove very beneficial to you as well, my Lord."

"Yes, it would. A prominent pureblood family…very powerful."

"My grandparents in particular seem to be very interested in your endeavors."

"I am pleased. The patriarch and matriarch of the Celestines are quite influential."

"If they were to become your followers, the entire Celestine family would be at your back."

"I shall consider inviting them."

She folded the letter up and slipped it back into its envelope. "They would be quite proud, I'm sure."

He nodded. "I must go conduct the meeting soon," he murmured.

"May I have some parchment and ink? I'll write back to her while you're gone."

He summoned some for her, handing it to her.

"Thank you." She smiled as she pushed herself up to sitting. "Enjoy yourself."

"I cannot without you." He shut the door, striding into the room with the long table before calling his followers. Bellatrix, he noticed, looked as petulant as ever. "I have an announcement."

His followers looked around at each other and he saw that several noticed Alize was not with them that night. Bellatrix seemed to be pleased by this. "Alize is…" he took a deep breath, looking around at them. "Expecting."

Bellatrix's smug look fell as she stared up at him, incredulous.

"Expecting _what, _Master?"

"My son."

This declaration was met with shock and disbelief.

"The Hogwarts students within my ranks, Regulus, Severus, and Wormtail, I have a special task for you."

"What of us, my Lordship?" the same man who had asked the earlier question inquired.

The Dark Lord ignored Amycus Carrow's question, not deigning to even look over at the pair of siblings.

"You must allay suspicions of Alize's departure from Hogwarts. Spread the news that her father has died, but not until Monday. He will be dead by then."

"W-we are killing her father…my Lord?" Bellatrix asked, obviously delighting in the thought.

"I will complete the task myself. She wishes it to be done," he said, pointedly. Her perturbed frown returned as he looked around at his followers. "There have been reports that I have received support from the Celestine family. I expect similar reports from those in contact with the giants and the goblins." He stared meaningfully at the Death Eaters in charge of such operations who shifted uncomfortably in their seats. "_Dismissed,_" he hissed in Parseltongue, clearly irked.

That Sunday morning, he called Wormtail. "I will be gone today. I need you to keep Bellatrix away from my wife. She should be locked away for the entire day. Do not release her for a moment."

Wormtail nodded enthused. "I will, my Lord, thank you, I sw-swear it…I will n-not fail you…"

He sighed not quite reassured, kissed Alize farewell and left for America.

That night, Alize reclined in Voldemort's personal study, reading a book her grandmother had sent her. Upon hearing her granddaughter was sick, the Celestine matriarch had wasted no time in shipping her a care package that included the new nightgown she wore now, which flowed around her in the finest silk, several books, and a new necklace she'd put up for a special occasion. Nagini was her only companion, wrapped around the top of the chair she sat in as she read.

"Hello, dearie," came a sarcastic voice from the door.

"Bellatrix," Alize said, not even glancing up from her book. "I was under the impression Voldemort had locked you away for the day."

"I am not a common prisoner to be thrown in a cell."

"Oh? It seemed to me that's what you had become."

"It seems _you _have become nothing more than an covetous whore. I wonder what our Lord would think if you were to lose the baby."

"We shall never find out."

She stepped closer, smirking. "Let's try a little experiment, dearie." She aimed her wand at Alize's stomach. Without glancing up from her book or losing her place in her reading, Alize raised her own and with perfect aim, lit Bellatrix on fire from her wild hair to her toes. When Bellatrix screamed, she cast another spell to silence her.

"That is no ordinary fire," Alize said tonelessly, flipping her page in order to continue reading. "It will not kill you but will incinerate you until I decide I've had enough. No, don't even try that. Rolling around on the floor won't put it out. Water won't put it out. Nothing but my magic can do that."

Her lips opened on a silent shriek of pain and fear as she lay on the ground, swatting at the flames.

"When Voldemort returns," Alize added, "I'll let him decide how further to punish you for attempting to harm his child."

Nagini hissed in pleasure at the show and Alize said not another word, merely continued to read her book until Voldemort returned that evening.

As he Apparated into his study, he glanced at Bellatrix momentarily with a mixture of emotions, amusement, curiosity, and anger at Wormtail. He turned back to Alize calmly reading. "He is dead."

She closed her book with a snap and looked up at him. "They'll expect me to be at the funeral."

"Of course. And now that you are orphaned, you will be expected to stay with the Celestines…"

"You will have to speak to my grandparents, then. I'm sure they would be quite happy to welcome you to their home."

"I will do this." He glanced back at Bellatrix with an amused smile before removing the spell and forcing her to her feet. "You have returned here when you were forbidden. You have left your post where I have told you to stay."

"She set me afire, Master!"

"With good reason. Alize is my chosen wife. I have told you several times to leave her alone. Though you claim you are one of my most devoted, you flounce my rules and do not trust my judgment. Everyone is expendable."

"_Elle a de la chance je n'ai pas la tuer_," Alize said behind him as Nagini slithered into her lap to be petted.

"This is very true. Perhaps next time she will not be so lucky."

"What did she say, my Lord? She is spreading lies…"

"_Je vous assure qu'elle ne veut pas_." Alize turned her eyes from the scene to Nagini, pausing to give his pet the attention she craved. Whispering to her in the little bit of Parseltongue she had picked up over the last several weeks, Alize stroked her lovingly. If Nagini were a cat, she would have been purring.

His lips curved just barely. He raised his wand to send Bellatrix back to her cell. "You will not be let out again until I need you." He used the Cruciatis, full-strength, on her, so that she retched on the ground from the pain then returned her to her prison cell. He turned back toward Alize, smiling. "What happened while I was absent?"

"Should I tell you or would you prefer to see for yourself?" she asked, looking up from Nagini and sitting back in the chair once more.

He captured her gaze, looking into the depths for the memory. It was already at the forefront of her mind and played out quickly for him.

He chuckled as he kissed her. "_My strong, beautiful wife,_" he whispered in Parseltongue.

"I only wish I could have done worse," she said with a sigh.

"_You have done plenty. Speak to me more in that beautiful language_." He smiled, moving behind her on the seat.

She turned to face him, setting her book on the table to free her hands. "_Je vous ai manqué pendant que tu es parti_," she murmured.

"_I missed you as well_," he said in Parseltongue.

"_Je tiens à rattraper le temps que nous avons été séparés_." Her tone was a soft purr and she looked up at him from beneath her dark lashes, her eyes full of heat.

"How do you plan to do this?"

She gently nudged Nagini aside and rose up on the chair. "_En faisant le fondu nuit en rien, mais un rêve de longue de plaisir_," she murmured softly then tilted her head to capture his lips with hers. He had never allowed a woman to kiss him before. In fact, he'd never allowed anyone to touch him without his permission. He was always the one to do the touching, the initiator in all his affairs.

His hand delved into her hair as he let out a soft breath of surprise. Her warm tongue brushed across the line of his lips, tracing and tasting, before bursting into his mouth. He sucked at her tongue, pulling her more fully against him. She never ceased to surprise him. Every time he spoke to her, every time he was near her, she was showing him just how perfect she truly was. And he couldn't get enough of it. The control in this kiss did not belong to him, not in the least. Alize was the leader as she pressed her tongue into his mouth to explore, to excite.

He moaned into her mouth, as he slid his tongue against hers. She nipped him with her teeth, sucked on his skin, suggestively ran her tongue across his own teeth. So bold, so arousing.

He picked her up, carrying her to his bed. Her beautiful little body sank down into the mattress as he laid on top of her, holding her there, fighting to regain the control she'd taken by kissing him instead of him kissing her.

He tore his mouth away from hers, kissing her body almost possessively. She cried out every time his lips made contact with her skin, every time his teeth sank into her flesh. "_You are mine…_" he said in Parseltongue.

"Yes!" she cried, arching into his mouth.

His tongue ran across her breast as he roughly tore her top down. The delicate white fabric shredded under his rough treatment but he hardly noticed. His lips closed over the pale pink bud that was her nipple, dragging it into his mouth with hard pulls. Her moans of ecstasy and soft whimpers of pain filled his ears. He raised his hand to squeeze her other breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers and pinching as his mouth devoured the other. She squirmed beneath him, writhing at the heady combination of pleasure and torment made her reel. His teeth sank into the sensitive skin and she shouted in pain, the cry fading into a loud moan as her nipple throbbed deliciously beneath his tongue.

He pulled away replacing his mouth with his other hand as he moved lower. Her stomach flinched beneath his lips, making her Dark Mark brush against his cheek. The contact sent a sharp ache shooting through her, up toward her breasts and down into her sex. She whimpered again, her head tossing from side to side on the pillow. As painful as it was, the ache only made the pleasure that much more acute within her.

"_Completely mine_." He smiled, looking her over as he pulled away then quickly returned, enchanted by the emotions he saw clearly on her face.

"Voldemort!" she shouted, unable to restrain herself. "Please! It's too much!"

He lay across her. "You wish me to stop?"

"No," she gasped, grasping him with numb fingers. "I wish for you to never stop. It's too much but it's not enough. I need more. _More,_ please!"

He kissed her, sliding into her roughly. "Demanding little girl."

She screamed, her hips rising wantonly, dragging him deeper. It was delicious, this pain and pleasure that overwhelmed her, stealing her breath, robbing her blind.

"Oh how I enjoy it," he murmured, his teeth scraping across her throat. Her nails sunk deep into his spine, clawing at him with frantic fingers. She thrust her hips against him over and over, arching herself down onto his length as hard as she could. But still it wasn't enough.

Completely delirious, she spoke to him in a confusing combination of English, French, and Parseltongue. Begging for more, begging for all that he could give her. He thrust against her hard, needing it just as much as she did. His head dipped down, his teeth capturing her nipple again. She jerked against the mattress as if she'd been electrocuted, pressing her breast into his mouth. Her nails scraped down lower, leaving behind long welts and the sticky sensation of fresh blood. He ran his tongue over it, tugging, nipping, not at all gentle in their passion. He felt the moment her first orgasm ripped through her. She arched completely off the bed, screaming herself hoarse. It was so sharp it was agonizing, yet her body gloried in it. It rushed in waves from her head to her toes, feeling like fire and lightning singing her from the inside out. She was on fire, blazing. And the inferno was euphoria. Still he did not let up in his sweet tortures, still tormenting her body with a mix of pain and pleasure. He shoved her roughly into that fire over and over until she became mindless, frenzied. She was an animal, tearing at him with her claws and teeth, shrieking unintelligible demands, roaring in his ears. She writhed beneath him. She was savage, insane from the torture, elated from the ecstasy. Finally he followed her over the cliff, exploding into the burning, molten heat and lay still above her. The echo of her last roar thrummed in his ears, blocking out the sound of her hard pants and gentle cries.

He clutched her to him, his body calming down slowly. Hers did not calm as his did, it remained ablaze for hours after her last orgasm.

He lay beside her, watching her, as he felt exhausted. "You have worn me out, child," he breathed hoarsely.

"I…can…barely…breathe…" she gasped.

"You must calm yourself, Alize. You will give your body a shock."

"I'm…trying…" she wheezed.

"I am glad you enjoyed yourself." He moved to the other side of the bed, allowing her some space to cool off.

It took her a while, but eventually her gasps became more even as she regulated her breathing.

He soon fell asleep, feeling cold without her warm body pressed against his. He slept restlessly, and only drifted into peaceful slumber when her tiny body eventually curled around him.


	10. Chapter 10

He awoke the next morning to hear her gentle breathing and stood quietly from the bed. She noticed his absence immediately, searching for him as she slept, her arms sliding across the sheets.

He kissed her hand before leaving in search of breakfast. As he ate, his mind puzzled over his bride asleep upstairs. She was, he believed, a rare gem. Such beauty as hers normally hid a malicious greedy inner soul…beauty and innocence rarely came together. But she seemed so… pure…He thought of last night and smiled. Not quite that innocent. He liked that wildness in her. That she could take such roughness and enjoy it as much as she had. He liked it, craved it; she made him lose control. He hadn't been this wild with anyone even in his teen years. Her body bowed to his whims as quickly and willingly as she did. He returned to his bed quickly to check on her. Carrying his son…it was an almost proud thought. Their son would be perfect. He would make sure of it. She slept as restlessly as he had the night before when their bodies weren't connected. Rolling from side to side in search of him.

He lay down beside, tugging her against him to whisper in Parseltongue in her ear. "_Awaken, Alize."_

Her eyes fluttered open at once, though it took her a moment to fully shake her drowsiness.

"Yes, my Lord?" she whispered, slightly groggy.

"I wish you good morning. Do you feel alright? You should eat something…for the baby."

"I…I feel alright. A little queasy but not enough where I won't eat."

"Come I have food for you."

She rose from the bed at once, though had to stand slowly as her head spun a bit. The dizziness faded quickly, however, and she followed Voldemort dutifully through the house, holding her torn nightgown closed over her bosom.

He looked back at her, the heat obvious in his eyes as he recalled memories of the night before, as he sat with her at the table. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her body throbbed at that look, her fingers shaking where she clutched her dress.

"Eat. We are alone."

She nodded, lowering her hand to pick up her fork. The shredded top sagged, gaping open to reveal her breasts. He smirked slightly, watching her eat. It was oddly one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. Teased by the cold air, her still swollen nipples puckered further, hardening into tight little buds. They'd been pale pink last night, but due to the sharp bites, the hard sucks, he'd given them, they were darker, slightly bruised. He stood, moving behind her to brush his hands over her skin. "_Temptress," _he whispered in Parseltongue. She shivered against him, her spine straightening as pleasure coursed through her, straight to her core. Her teeth sank into her lips, biting back her moan and her fork fell from between her numb fingers to land on the table with a clatter. "Continue eating. I did not tell you to stop."

"Yes, my Lord," she breathed, picking up her fork with a hand that was deceptively steady and digging back into her food.

He moved his hand away from her, licking the pad of his fingertip before brushing it across her skin again. She shivered again, harder this time, struggling to force her jaw to continue chewing the food she'd placed in her mouth. He smiled as he twisted her nipple between his fingers, kissing the back of her neck. She made a soft moan in her throat, sliding another bite of the food she couldn't taste past her lips.

"M-my L-lord…I d-did not m-mean t-to in-interrupt, s-sir…" Rabastan Lestrange stuttered, turning to face away from them.

"This had better be important."

"M-my…My…s-sister-in-law…sh-she said w-we were br-breaking my br-brother out t-today…"

Alize ignored the newcomer, eating slowly as Voldemort had told her to do. She ignored, as well, the fact that her breasts were hanging out of her dress and the Dark Lord's fingers still teased her nipples, sending need swirling and spiraling low in her stomach.

"She lied. Leave my presence before I lose my temper completely."

He trembled as he moved to leave but Voldemort stopped him, his body locking into place, unable to move. "You do not enter my private home without _my_ permission." As he spoke Rabastan felt vines of pain expand throughout his body, escalating, worsening. "Consider yourself lucky. You will not be so should this happen again."

Alize swallowed the food in her mouth, watching the sight curiously. Even as he tortured Rabastan, he continued to pleasure her.

"I s-saw n-nothing, Master, I sw-swear…"

"Such lies, Rabastan."

Her core throbbed the longer he teased her. She was still sensitive, even so many hours after he'd brought her to those roaring orgasms over and over, and she felt another begin to form within her. He was pulling her closer and closer by the second with just his fingertips.

"I…I sw-swear…pl-please, sir…"

"Perhaps I should force you to forget through horrors…pain…torture…"

Rabastan's voice faded as her body burned with flaring pleasure. She bit her lip as hard as she could but she could not suppress the moan that escaped, breathless and quiet.

"J-just let me go…pl-please…it w-won't ever h-happen again."

Voldemort licked the back of her neck before he continued to increase the pain Rabastan felt.

Both Rabastan and Alize cried out at the same time. She began to tremble, feeling the orgasm just a breath away. Voldemort smiled, sucking at the skin of her throat. She moaned again, this time louder, the sound vibrating her skin beneath his tongue.

"Voldemort…" she whispered so only he could hear. "I am going to…to come…"

"Please do." He immediately sent Rabastan away, expelling him from his home. "Now."

She exploded violently, her body shaking and convulsing. She wailed as she came, her nails digging deep grooves into the table. It was so perfectly intense, so overwhelmingly euphoric. Her back arched in the chair, her head falling back. Her breasts were thrust up into his touch, making the pleasure build even more intense.

"You are such a good slave, Alize."

"I aim…to…please…my Lord…" she panted breathlessly, the pleasure not yet fading from her body.

"Are you finished with your food or do you wish to continue?" He kissed the back of her neck again.

"I…I ate it all…my Lord," she murmured, shivering against his lips.

He smiled. "Then we can continue this in private. Hopefully without future interruptions."

"Hopefully," she whispered, licking her lips hungrily.

He chuckled. "If you show me that you want it bad enough we might not stop until noon."

"It would be very easy to prove if my Lord would let me borrow his hand for a moment," she murmured.

He raised a brow, holding out his hand to her, with a bemused smile. She took it within her own hand and led it down her body, through the gaping hole in her top and down further to her very core. She spread her legs, separating her lower lips, in order to press his fingertips against her entrance, which still wept from her orgasm, soaking the pads of his index and middle fingers.

"Is that enough to please my Lord?" she asked softly.

"Plenty. We shall see how long you can last." He carried her up the stairs and locked the door to his room.

"I could…still…go…for…more…my Lord…" Alize panted no less than six hours later, covered and sweat and the moisture from her own orgasms, repeated every few minutes over the course of the last several hours. In truth she was dizzy, delirious, and aching from the pleasure. But she could handle more. In fact, she wanted it.

"More? How strong you are…Are you sure you can take it?"

"Please…" she breathed, her fingers flexing weakly against her own palms. "I am…addicted to…the way you fill…me…"

"Addiction is a dangerous thing. You never know when you have had enough…"

"My Lord knows…what is best for me…"

"I do not know…I believe I am addicted too." He kissed her, a hot, hard kiss against her already bruised lips. Her warm moan filled his mouth, only adding to the belief. He craved those noises she made as much as he craved the contact between their bodies.

This was dangerous, risky. But he was the Dark Lord, Voldemort. Wizards everywhere were afraid to utter his name. He did not have to worry over a little danger, especially that posed by lust. She mumbled something against his lips, so quiet he could make nothing out other than the word "whisper".

He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "I did not catch that, Alize."

"If you want me to listen…whisper…" she sang in an achingly quiet voice. "If you want me to run just walk…"

He didn't recognize the song, and frankly was surprised she had the strength to sing. He smiled at the thought, thrusting into her again.

"Wrap…your name in…lace and leather…" she breathed as he thrust into her, singing weakly, panting heavily. "I can hear…you…you don't need…to talk…"

He kissed around her lips, her cheeks, her nose.

"Let us make a thousand…mistakes…For we will…never learn…"

He rocked against her hard. "Try not to stop," he whispered. "Keep singing."

Her hips lifted against his, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and then she continued. "You're my obsession…my fetish…my…religion…my confusion, my confession…the one I want…tonight..."

He smiled, moaning aloud as he took her over and over. As he pounded in her, she continued to sing, but her voice grew more breathless by the second.

"You're my…obsession…the question and…conclusion…you…are…you are…you are…my fetish…you are…"

"B-beautiful voice…" he moaned.

"You can…kiss me…with your torture…Tie…me up…to…golden…chains…"

He rolled over so that he could fuck her deeper, harder, grasping her hips to move her against him himself.

Her next words were a shout, a half strangled cry. "Wrong or right it's all role play!"

"So strong…you can't possibly last much longer."

Her lips quivered. "Let us make a thousand mistakes…We'll never…learn…"

He pulled her against him even faster. "So close…"

Her inner muscles trembled, on the verge of orgasm. But she sung on. "You're my obsession! My fetish, my religion! My confusion, my confession! The one I want tonight! You're my obsession! The question and conclusion! You are…you are…you are…My fetish, you are…"

"Come with me, Alize."

Her lips rose into a little smile as her body clenched his. "Come…to me…tonight…" she sang in a whisper and then she exploded around him and could sing no more.

He pulled her against him as he came with her, a smile on his face.

Bellatrix had a lot of time to think while locked in her cage. A lot of time to plan and strategize. A lot of time to decide. And what she decided was that she could not let the little gold digging whore live.

She was a little girl, not even yet out of school, and suddenly she was in _Bellatrix's_ position. His most faithful most devoted. She had never failed him. She had done everything he'd wanted. She'd killed, tortured, stolen for him. She would die for him…and he chooses the babe. She was not even old enough to take care of herself. Bellatrix sneered.

She would show him, one way or another, that his little bride's motives were not as pure as her heritage. Ambitious little slut… She was not worthy of the Dark Lord. She would prove it. One way or another.

Over the next few days, Bellatrix had to kill five people, torture three, and permanently maim one before she was able to find two people to help her with her task.

"What is the meaning of this?!" the Dark Lord roared in Parseltongue, a rarity, his voice obviously full of anger, though they could not understand the meaning. Alize blinked up at her lover as all of the Death Eaters in the room shrank back in their chairs, cowering from his anger.

"Lestrange, Alize, _now._" He stood sweeping from the room. Alize rose from her chair immediately and followed after him, her bare feet making soft thuds on the ground. Rabastan looked over at his sister-in-law and rose slower, stumbling over his feet as he followed with a sinking feeling of dread.

He slammed the door to his study shut, grasping her by the shoulders and seizing control of her mind. She didn't look away, holding his gaze and opening her mind so he could see everything she'd ever done. He was searching for something, obviously, and she would not make it more difficult for him to find.

He pulled away, turning to Rabastan. "She is innocent. Explain this, _now._" He threw the picture on the table between them. Rabastan swallowed, looking down at the photograph that depicted him and Alize together in the throes of ecstasy.

"It w-was…B-Bellatrix…m-my L-Lord…She…Sh-she k-killed many people…a-and th-threatened to k-kill _me _i-if I d-did n-not help h-her…"

"You did not come to me. You did not tell me."

"She…She…Sh-She used the C-Cruciatis curse…"

Alize stood behind Voldemort, completely confused. She was unable to see the photograph on the table so she still had no clue what had caused his rage.

"That is nothing to what I will do." He pulled Alize out from behind him. "She will choose your punishment."

"My Lord," she said, glancing at the photograph which she still could not see clearly. "I don't know what he's done."

"He plotted with his sister-in-law…trying to discredit you." He handed her the picture. "She is innocent and she is _mine."_

She studied the photograph in silence for a long time and as she did, her pale eyes grew chillier by the moment, usually kind now they were frightening. Her grip on the photograph as she lowered it was so tight her knuckles strained whiter than normal.

"I don't care what you do to him," she said softly but coldly. "Give him to the Aurors as a gift. But I want a turn with Bellatrix."

"Of course. Now for you…" Ropes crawled from the end of his wand like snakes. Rabastan could only watch with trepidation as they wrapped around him.

"Who took the photograph?" Alize asked as the robes bound him.

"Alecto Carrow," he murmured.

"Stay with him while I retrieve the others."

"Of course, my Lord." She strode toward the bound Death Eater and sat down on the edge of the table.

He walked from the room. "I require assistance. My former betrothed has been unfaithful. I aim to torture her and the scoundrel. I ask for two to help me with this task."

Bellatrix leapt from her seat. "I will, my Lord."

"Excellent. Alecto Carrow, come with me as well."

As they giddily left the room with the Dark Lord, several of the Death Eaters looked to each other with pale faces. Drake, Regulus, Severus, and Narcissa all looked both shocked and sickened.

"There is no way. Alize is the purest woman…she would never touch another man…especially not him…this is bad…really bad…" Severus muttered.

"Perhaps she'd been Imperiused?" Drake suggested.

"She is too strong of mind for such weak wizards to control her," Narcissa answered.

As they sat there discussing, the first agonized shriek rang through the room.

"They'll kill her!" Regulus cried, agonized.

"I…I don't think that was her…" one of the older Death Eaters murmured. The shrieking continued, growing louder, more pained by the moment. They had never heard such a deeply tormented sound.

Several of the Death Eaters, even some of the battle-hardened ones cringed and blocked their ears.

They couldn't tell whose voice was creating the screams, and being forced to listen to the sound thinking it may be there dearest friend had Severus, Regulus, and Drake squirming in their seats, near tears, while Narcissa buried her face in her husband's robe.

Voldemort returned after a moment, a pleased look in his eye. "Bellatrix Lestrange has paid the price for her disobedience," he said quietly. "Do not cross me. Do not cross my wife. Or I will put you in her hands to decide. And she will not be lenient."

"Narcissa, look away," came Alize's voice from the study. Swallowing, now numb, Narcissa buried her face further in her husband's robes and heard a sickening thud hit the table, the smell of blood and charred flesh filling her nose.

"I have tolerated a large amount of disrespect for far too long," Alize said, her voice as cold as the Dark Lord's as she raised her wand and lit the photograph on fire, setting it still flaming on Bellatrix's corpse where it lay across the table. "I will tolerate it no more."

Voldemort watched her with appreciation as the Death Eaters trembled.

"It disturbs me how many who call themselves His most loyal I find to be anything but. We have lost three warriors today because of treachery. I hope we will not be losing any more in the future," her seemingly innocent words definitely held a clear note of warning. She surveyed the room then turned to face Voldemort. "May I be excused, my Lord?"

He nodded, raising his wand to dispose of Bellatrix. She turned sharply on her heel and stormed from the room, the white silk of her gown, stained red with blood in several places, billowing around her, her long, crimson hair whipping behind her shoulders as she walked.

"Now let us begin our meeting…I need someone to take up Rabastan's position with the giants."

Alize was pacing his study when he finally dismissed the rest of his followers and joined her.

"They infuriate me," she said as she paced, twirling her wand around in her fingers.

"I know. They will never disrespect you again."

"It's not I who is being disrespected," she said. Her blood stained dress flowed around her like water as she turned in circles about the room, lost in her thoughts. "Almost the whole lot of them is useless. They cower before you but it is still not enough to make them do as you ask. Not a single one of them has succeeded in the tasks you've given them. _I _could accomplish every single one of the errands you have given them in half the time it's taken them to _fail_," she hissed.

He smiled. "You would like to try your hand at it."

"I would," she said, tossing her wand between her hands. "They should be purged. There are only very few among them who are worthy enough to call themselves your loyal servants."

"You would have my forces be diminished."

"I would have your forces be whipped into obedience."

"I shall put you in charge for a trial run if you believe you can handle it."

"I know I can. I also know of many much more qualified people who would love to take the places of these unworthy brats."

"I give you permission."

"I'll begin at once. And I assure you, I will not disappoint." She paused in her pacing, coming to a rest in front of him.

"I don't doubt that…I am a little worried over our son."

"He is strong," she said, lowering her hands to her stomach.

"I know this." He kissed her.

"I will not fail you, my Lord," she whispered against his lips.

"You will report in one week of your success."

"How is the project with the giants?"

"We…We have converted some, M-Master," said the Death Eater in charge. "Well…o-one… They are very h-hard to find, Master. And even harder to control."

"Not good enough," Voldemort said quietly. He glanced silently toward Alize.

She rose from her seat and moved to a wall where a detailed map of the world had been hung.

"The giants live in three main enclaves. Here, here, and here," she said, gesturing to spots on the map before turning back to face Voldemort. "They have all been contacted and secured. They are quite eager to assist you, my Lord."

The Death Eaters who had been assigned to this task glared at her with surprise and contempt.

"Thank you. You may return to your seat," Voldemort said. Alize inclined her head and sat down beside him again.

"And what of the goblins?" he continued.

"My Lord…We have nothing they want. They do not want gold. They want the rights and privileges the wizarding world has denied them. How can we promise them that?"

"You lie."

"But they know we are lying. They're goblins…"

He sighed. "Incompetent fools. Alize, do you have more to report?"

"The goblins have also been secured, my Lord. I have already set them about their duties."

He eyed her speculatively, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Lucius, have you been successful within the Ministry?"

"Yes, my Lord. But I…I have not done as well as I had hoped. We have control of one of the Ministry officials and are in the process of working on two more."

"Which officials?"

"Dolores Umbridge."

He frowned. "Inconsequential and useless. Must I even ask, Alize?"

She smiled. "The Minister and all his underlings are at my beck and call, my Lord."

"The muggle Prime Minister, Alize? Any news of him?"

"Dead."

"Perfect. Have we control of the Dementors?"

"Complete."

"Is this all you have done this week?"

"I have also found the time to bring my Lord several gifts."

"Gifts?" He watched her curiously.

"Have you heard of the Celestine Whiplash, my Lord?"

"The dragon?"

"You now own three."

"I believe that concludes this meeting. I am sorely disappointed in most of you. Dismissed."

After all of the Death Eaters were gone, he stood to approach Alize. "You have done well, child."

She smiled, leaning back in her seat. "That is not all, my Lord."

"What else? What more could there be?" he asked, bemused.

"The Warren family fortune I inherited upon my father's death has been moved to your personal stores."

He watched her, silent for a moment. "Did you have no need of the money?" he asked, distracted.

"My Lord needs it more than I."

"We must celebrate your accomplishments, Alize…you have surprised me by such success."

"But I'm not yet finished, my Lord," she said, grinning widely.

"I should have guessed." He smiled. "What other news must I hear?"

"I have taken the time to design, construct, and outfit your non magical allies with weaponry and armor they may use during battle. And I've done it all, I might add, pregnant and with enough time to spare at the end of the day to return home to eat supper, see to my Lord's needs, and retire to his bed for a full night's rest."

"You have done very well. Is there anything you wish?"

"My only concern, my Lord, is to find you more suitable servants."

"You may do with my followers what you please. Get rid of them, get new slaves, whatever you wish. I trust your instincts."

She smiled. "I'm glad I've pleased you."

"You have not pleased me yet. But we shall remedy that."

Alize rose from her seat immediately and climbed into his lap. "The Lord may do with me as he desires," she whispered against his lips.

"You have earned freedom today, slave. You may do as you wish."

A charming grin spread across her lips an instant before she disposed of his clothes, leaving him naked in his chair at the head of the table as she straddled him.

He smiled. "I do enjoy how your mind works, Alize."

"So do I, my Lord." She bent and trailed her tongue across his throat.

He moaned, allowing his head to fall back to grant her better access. Slowly she made a path with her lips from his throat, across his pale chest, down to his navel. She knelt on the floor at his feet and looked up at him from between his legs.

"_Je peux vous plaire mon Seigneur_ ?" she asked, her lips brushing across the tip of his manhood. Her warm breath caressed him softly, all the way down his length.

"Yes," he whispered in Parseltongue. "Yes…I need it…"

She lowered her head at once, as though bowing to him, and took his manhood past her lips, deep into her wet mouth. He jerked up against her. "Mm…Alize…"

Her tongue ran in circles around his head and then the rest of his warm flesh as she lowered her mouth, taking him even deeper, sucking on him as she did. He moaned loudly, his hands fisting in her hair as he moved against her mouth. She did not mind the way he thrust roughly past her lips. She encouraged him to take his pleasure from her, sliding him to the edge of his chair and further down her throat. He moved lustfully, in and out of her mouth, deeply, a steady stream of moans leaving his lips. All the while she accepted him, raising her hands to stroke him as her tongue licked him, her teeth nipped him, and her mouth sucked him, filling him with sharp, acute pleasure. He exploded into her mouth, clutching her tighter to him as his body shuddered relentlessly, tremors passing through him. She swallowed his release, swirling her tongue around his twitching length to lap up every drop into her mouth before she withdrew. He looked down at her, an odd feeling making his chest both tighten and swell. All of the tasks she had accomplised in such short a time, her concern for giving him the greatest army for his war…those were things that had already pleased him greatly. She was most loyal, most faithful. But she had surprised him again. He had told her she could be Master as a reward for her work but she had pleasured him instead, and taken nothing for herself. He pulled her up to him, kissing her. He could taste himself on her tongue. How could she have taken such a bitter, disgusting taste willingly? Even going so far as to lick it into her mouth to swallow it. He pulled away kissing her nose. "You continue to amaze me, Alize."

"I only want to make you happy," she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. "_J'aime_."

"I know you do…You have done inspiring work, as always."

"Is it nice not to be disappointed, my Lord?"

He smiled. "It is refreshing. I am never disappointed with you."

"And you never will be," she vowed.

"I know this. You are a kind Master, Alize."

"Only to my most faithful," she teased with a mischievous grin.

"Wise. You cannot trust many."

"That is true." She raised her wand and returned his clothes to him.

He stood from his seat. "You cause me to act like a reckless, hormonal teenager, Alize…I always need you…"

"It's because I'm a reckless, hormonal teenager. I'm sure it'll pass."

"A pity…I am enjoying this new adventure."

"As am I."

"Let us enjoy together while it lasts."

"After you, my Lord."

"Where is our Lord?"

"He will not be joining us today," Alize said from the chair at the head of the table, tapping a quill against a stack of parchment. "He had other matters to attend to."

"What are we doing today if our Lord is not here?"

"Inspection."

There were looks of confusion around the table. "Inspection?"

"The Dark Lord is severely displeased with his servants. He has asked me to weed out those who don't belong."

Several looked worried. "Will you kill them…?"

"Do I need to?" she asked with raised brows.

"No…"

"Then don't be concerned. I won't do anything unnecessary. I don't want to waste my time."

"How are you deciding?"

"That's my business, isn't it?"

"When will we know…?"

"Today." She sat up straighter in her seat. "A very small few of you will be dismissed without discipline soon. Some of you will find your time as a Death Eater has come to an end. The rest of you will be given one last chance. And I must stress this so you understand me perfectly. One more chance and then you're done. Do we understand?"

Several of the Death Eaters nodded or mumbled assent.

"Excellent." She dipped her quill in ink and held it poised above her parchment. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Severus sat beside her. "You're keeping me, yes?" He smiled.

She offered him her own small smile and nodded. "Voldemort is very pleased with you," she whispered to him.

"Thanks…"

"You're one of my best friends, Severus," she said solemnly. "I just want you to know that."

"And you are mine."

"Listen, I'm going to be dismissing those who are fine half way through the meeting but I'd like you to stay behind. I have a task I need your help with."

"Anything."

She turned back to the others. "Avery, let's begin with you…"

"I have done everything faithfully for our Lord for ten years…"

"Then you should pass with flying colors."

Voldemort rested in his bed, confident of Alize's abilities to judge his slaves. After a long while, he joined her in the conference room. "It is going well."

"Yes." She looked up at him over her shoulder, setting down her quill. She had several sheets of parchment covered in notes and observations. Nearly all of those gathered looked ill.

"What will we do with the removed?"

"They will be with Alastor Moody by morning."

He nodded. "How is our child?"

"Content at the moment."

"Good. You will be finished soon?"

"Soon, yes."

"Return to me," he said in Parseltongue. "I will be waiting in my bed for you."

"Soon as I can, my Lord," she whispered back in the same language.

He smiled, then returned to his room.

"Alright," Alize said when he left. "I think I've made my final decision."

Voldemort fell asleep nearly the minute he returned to his room. She had everything under control. He trusted her completely. He awoke some time later as Alize slipped into the bed beside him, curling up against his spine and wrapping one arm around his waist.

"You amaze me, Alize…you are an astounding leader…and fulfilling lover... you are everything I could want in a wife."

She pressed her lips against his spine in a soft kiss. "May I ask you something, my Lord?"

"Anything."

"Why…Why did you single me out, in the beginning? You have treated me differently than all the others from the very start."

"You had an intriguing background. I've learned to listen to my instincts. I felt you were special."

"Why did you mark me on my belly instead of my arm?"

"I marked you differently because you were different."

"I mean…specifically…why my stomach?"

"Impulse…I do not know what caused it…"

"Do you know what it feels like when you call me?"

"No. I know it causes pain."

"It burns in here," she pressed her hips against his spine, rubbing her sex against him.

He brushed his hand over her arm. "Is that so?"

"Yes. And here." She pressed her breasts against him.

He let out a soft sigh at the sensation of her pressed against him. "Is that a complaint?"

"No. I like it," she whispered in his ear. "It hurts but it makes me ache with need."

"I need you now, Alize."

"Touch me, my Lord," she murmured, lying flat on her back on the bed beside him. "Make me burn again."

He traced his finger over her dark mark, kissing her as he did. She shrieked in agony against his lips and he pulled away to watch in amazement as her breasts swelled, her nipples puckering into hard little peaks and down between her legs, moisture began to pool.

His fingers trailed through the moisture. "You enjoy the pain."

She nodded, breathless at the sensation of his fingers toying with her.

He smiled. "I am your Master. I do with you as I wish."

"Yes," she breathed helplessly.

He lay across her, pressing her into the bed. "You are mine."

"Yes," she whimpered again.

He kissed her, holding her hands down above her head as he took her.

"YES!" she screamed her head falling back as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her body trembled violently beneath him.

He smiled as he rocked against her roughly. "My slave is pleased."

"Always…" she moaned, her hips lifting, searching, straining.

He held her hands with one of his and grabbed her hip with his other. She whimpered, her fingers curling around his hand. She wanted so badly to lift her hips and force him deeper within her. But as he gripped her, she couldn't move at all. She tossed her head to the side, moaning, pleading, shielding her flushed face with her long hair.

He held her tighter. "Mine…"

"Yes," she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I know."

"Beg me."

"Please…" she whispered, her lips brushing the skin of the arm held above her head. "Please, Master…I need it." Her words became whimpers then gasps. "Please!" she cried. "_Please!_"

He let her go, rocking harder. She threw her head back and screamed, raising her hips to slam her body against his, forcing him deep again and again. Then deeper, faster, _harder _until he was sure she must be hurting herself.

He cried out, exploding inside of her. She whimpered in frustration, having not reached her peak. She'd come close, so close she was sure she was going to explode. But she hadn't and now she lay there aching with a need so acute she felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

He pulled away from her, sliding his hand against her. "You want more?"

"P-Please," she sobbed.  
He slid his fingers inside of her, three of them at once, pounding them against her.

"Yes!" she screamed, convulsing around him. "Yes, oh _yes_!"

He kissed her, nipping at her lip.

"More," she whispered against his lips. "Please…more…"

"Demanding little slave…" He slid another finger inside with the others. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"I…_need_…it…" she gasped, rocking her hips against his fingers.

"You're so small. I can barely fit my fingers inside of you," he whispered.

"I know…and that…the stretching…oh it feels so _good_," she breathed, rocking harder.

"My little slave."

"Yes…" Her head fell back again, her teeth sinking into her lip. "I'm so close…so very close."

"Let go. I command you."

She did, her already tight sheath squeezing him so hard his fingers were forced out of her. She cried out at she came, her back arching, breasts bouncing, eyes rolling as the tears that had threatened earlier burst free to race across her feverish cheeks.

He pulled her close, pressing her body against his.

"My…My Lord…takes…such good…care of me…" she murmured sleepily.

"Always."

"I apologize…for being so demanding…Master…"

"I will not punish you for it."

"You are…too…kind…my Lord."

"Such a good little slave."

Her eyes drifted shut over her tears. "_J'aime_," she whispered on a soft sigh.

"I know."

Her lips lifted at the corners. "I do love you, my Lord. You know I do…but I was talking to your son this time."

He smiled. "Good night, my queen."

"Good night, my Lord."


	11. Chapter 11

Taking Alize as his wife turned out to be a much more prudent decision than Voldemort had imagined. His forces were now running as smoothly as a well-trained army, just as they should be. His followers that had somehow managed to stay in their service despite Alize's many inspections, were so terrified of her that they would dare not even think something to displease her. As a result, all of the Dark Lord's bidding was done perfectly. She had replaced his useless servants with far more skilled witches and wizards. Her uncle, Devereaux Celestine, was the finest Healer in the world and proved to be a great asset.

The murder of her father, considered the most powerful Auror the world had ever seen, created mass panic in America and Europe, aiding him in his endeavors. Her mother's family had also become quite useful, spreading propaganda among all of their friends, family, servants, and subjects so many, many more people had become his supporters. As the day of their marriage drew ever closer, the child inside grew larger and stronger. By Christmas that year, her stomach was now showing signs of the child that grew within.

He never received Christmas gifts…he did not even celebrate the holiday. But that year he had the greatest gift of them all. He had control of Europe. Completely. And he had Alize.

He looked over at her where she sat in a chair by the fire, her white dress gently draping around her slightly swollen belly. A French novel was clutched in her hand and the light of the fire made her pale cheeks bright pink as she read. "You are happy here, yes?"

Alize looked up from her book, closing it slowly. "Of course I am, my Lord," she said, obviously a bit puzzled as to why he would ask.

"I want you to be happy."

"I am…" She looked a bit grieved. "Have I done something to make you think I'm not?"

"No. I am merely thinking."

"Would my Lord like to share his thoughts?" she asked, setting aside her book and rising to walk toward him. Her dress shimmered around her stomach, reminding him of the son that lay there.

"I just did not want my son born into an unhappy family."

"He won't be. You know I love him very much." She sat down on the arm of his chair. "Just as I love you very much."

"I know." He looked up at her with an odd feeling. "Sit with me."

She slid down so she was sitting in his lap, curling up there to look up at him.

"I care for you…for our son deeply…" he murmured.

She smiled warmly. "I've seen it, my Lord. Would you…care to feel him?"

He nodded, wrapping his arms around her. "I love him," he said, surprising himself. He felt her pleasure at his words. He hadn't said he loved her, yet she was genuinely happy he loved their child.

"Here," she said softly, taking his hand in hers. She led it to her stomach, pressing his fingertips against a spot low on her abdomen. She pressed a little harder and Voldemort felt a hard knot brushing against his fingertips within her. "That is your son."

He smiled. "He will be perfect."

"The most perfect a mother could ask for. I know it."

"And the most perfect mother."

"I've been thinking," she said after a moment, warmed by his praise. "I believe I've found a name suitable enough for the Dark Lord's son."

"Tell me."

"Ophiuchus. The Serpent Bearer."

"Perfect."

"He will always know," she said. "Just how much we love him. I'll make sure of it."

"I love you."

She bit back her gasp of surprise. "I…You do, my Lord?" she whispered breathlessly.

"I do not understand it. But I know that I do."

"How… can you tell?" she asked softly, shyly.

"I don't know…it is a strange feeling. But good."

"Our son will be very lucky indeed."

"Yes, he will."

She leaned back against him as his hand fell away. "May I be excused from the meeting today, my Lord?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." She rose from his lap. "Would my Lord like to join me in a bath before then?"

"Always." He stood following her.

She ran the bath warm and sank down into it, looking at him over her shoulder.

He quickly joined her in the bath, wrapping his body around hers. "Does my love please you?"

"More than anything," she whispered, pressing against him.

"I love you," he whispered in Parseltongue.

Her head tilted back and her eyes drifted shut as she savored the words. "_J'aime, _Voldemort."

"You have broken my curse. I saw it as a blessing until you opened my eyes. I could not love. I did not comprehend it. Now you have saved me."

"Love is not such a horrible thing, is it?" she murmured.

"No, it is wondrous. Like a drug."

"One week," she murmured.

"I cannot wait to wed you."

Her lips lifted again. "One week."

The day of the marriage between Voldemort and Alize arrived cold and icy. Waking up on that morning, Alize shivered uncontrollably against him, her belly brushing against his hip with each little tremor. He held her close, wrapping the blanket tightly around them. "We shall be wed today," he whispered.

"So we shall," she murmured back, her teeth chattering slightly.

He kissed her, feeling their child pressed between them.

"I am…a bit nervous," she said, curling her body as close to his as possible.  
"Why?"

"The dress is very beautiful but it's designed to show off my belly because of my Mark. It just…makes me feel vulnerable knowing everyone will be able to see him."

"Everything will be perfect. Do not worry."

"I'm sorry…I'm just protective."

"I know, but he is a strong child."

"Very strong. Even know I can feel him moving though I'm not supposed to for several more weeks."

"I am very proud of him."

She smiled as she withdrew, moving to the side of the bed to stand. "I'm seventeen today," she whispered, mostly to herself.

"A true adult."

"Still not nearly as mature as you, my Lord."

"I am not mature. I am just old," he said with an almost sad smile. "But as long as you don't mind…"

"Of course I don't. I merely wish I could bring as much experience to our relationship." She paused, thinking for a moment. "Am I the youngest you've been with, my Lord?" she asked, curious.

"Yes, you are, my love."

"It never bothered you, my age?"

"No."

"My mother was fifteen when she married my father."

"Age does not matter when you are in love."

"It was arranged," she said, moving to the closet to examine her gown. "Love came later."

"We must get prepared for our wedding."

"Are you superstitious, my Lord?"

"Not much. But traditions are best upheld."

"Pity." She ran her finger down the edge of the black dress. "I was going to ask if you'd help me into my gown."

"Then come here my beautiful betrothed."

She smiled as she turned to face him, walking toward him slowly with her hand curled around her stomach.

"You are amazing, Alize."

"As are you, my Lord."

"Yes, I know," he said with a smile, standing from the bed.

"_J'aime_."

"I love you, too, my bride."


	12. Chapter 12

Alize stood at the back of the room, clutching tightly to Regulus's arm for support. Inside her she could feel Ophiuchus shifting about restlessly as though he sensed the importance of the occasion.

"Are you nervous?"

"Extremely," she whispered, curling her fingers into her palms.

"Don't worry. This is a happy moment…"

She nodded, but inside her stomach churned. Her life was about to change in multiple ways, she couldn't help but be a little scared. She was only seventeen, after all.

"You'll be okay…just…take a deep breath…"

She did as he suggested and instantly felt herself calm somewhat. There was nothing to be afraid of, she realized. She was marrying the person she loved. They were expecting a child together. She was extremely happy, more so than she'd ever been. Instinctively she knew she was about to close the door on her old life completely, that once she married Voldemort she could never go back. But she couldn't bring herself to care. Regulus was right This was a happy moment.

The music began to play, a soft thrum of drums and Alize straightened her spine, feeling her chest swell with love and pride as she moved into the room and toward her soon to be husband.

The Great Hall was abuzz with conversation when Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter went to breakfast. They knew something huge must've happened that they didn't yet know about and they braced themselves for news of another attack, another death. But nothing could've prepared them for what they found instead.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Takes A Wife," James read in disbelief.

Sirius snatched the Daily Prophet from him and stared down at the picture that dominated the front page.

"No…no…" he whispered after a while, all color draining from his face. His voice was shell shocked, horror struck, terrified, sickened, heartbroken, and infuriated all at once. "_No_…"

"The _Prophet_ isn't always true…"

Sirius glanced up at them then grabbed Remus and James and dragged them from the room, Peter following dutifully behind. Out in the hall, Sirius shoved his hands through his hair then shoved the newspaper in James's face.

"It's Alize," he said, his voice cracking.

"You can't even see the woman's face," Remus said, frowning as he studied the picture.

"I'd know that body anywhere. That scratch like scar on her neck, the heart-shaped freckle on her wrist…" His lip quivered. "It's Alize."

"Why would she do something like that? Do you think he forced her? How in the fuck do you know she has a heart-shaped freckle on her wrist…?"

"You notice those things…" he mumbled. "It was Snape and Regulus… They took her to him. They must've used the Imperius curse on her…"

"Seems likely."

He took the newspaper back and looked at again, then slowly sank down to the floor against the wall.

"He raped her."

"What?!"

He leaned his head in his hand, his fingers tearing at his hair as he waved the paper weakly. "She's pregnant."

"Oh…God…I thought she…was in France…"

"It must've been a cover."

"Pregnant…with You-Know-Who's baby…God what a nightmare…"

"I'll kill them," Sirius muttered darkly. "I should've protected her better. I knew they were hanging around her but I didn't do anything. I'll kill them for taking her to him."

"You can't do that. And you couldn't have known…"

"He'll kill her," Sirius said, looking up at Remus, James, and Peter. "You do realize that? He'll kill her when he tires of her."

"He won't tire of her," Peter muttered.

"He won't…? Of course he'll get tired of her!" Sirius shouted, leaping to his feet. "He's the goddam 'Dark Lord'. He probably has hundreds of women to choose from. She doesn't stand a chance…"

"She is beautiful…divinely beautiful…no one can tire of that."

"Wormy!" Sirius said sharply. "This isn't funny." He spun in a slow circle, tugging at his hair, then marched angrily toward the Great Hall.

"I was being serious," he murmured.

Sirius neared the Slytherin table, a dark and malicious look in his eyes. Remus and James raced after him. Snape watched him approach coolly.

"You _ruined _her!" Sirius snarled as he came to a halt in front of him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Black."

"I know you did it. I know you took her to him. Why couldn't you just leave her alone?" He gripped the newspaper tightly. "She was…good and pure and…and _perfect_. And now look at her." He waved the newspaper. "_You _did that to her!" He tossed the Prophet in Severus's face.

"Did what to who? I don't understand."

"Don't fucking play games with me." He grabbed Snape by the robes and hauled him from the table. Snape pulled at him, whipping out his wand, but James was faster.

"Expelliarmus!"

McGonagall approached the table. "What is the problem here?" she asked, furious.

"Nothing," Sirius grabbed James and Remus and started walking out of the Hall, glaring back at Snape the whole way.

He shook himself off, meeting Regulus's eye.

Alize paced the study back and forth slowly, rubbing the small of her back with one hand. The ache was intense and it worried her. Combined with a few twinges of pain within her, she was concerned for her son. Devereaux had assured her she may feel cramping as her womb grew larger to accommodate Ophiuchus, but she hadn't expected it to be as bad as the pain from her monthly cycle. Taking a deep breath, she made another lap around the room, hoping the cramps would fade.

"My Lord…" Severus murmured. "Sirius Black recognized her."

Alize froze in shock where she stood. Sirius? He'd recognized the grainy, cropped photograph of her in the _Prophet_?

"I showed nothing, but he blamed me. I played the fool and he is not convinced."

"How could he possibly recognize me when I look like little more than a blob?" she asked, sucking in a sharp breath and rubbing her stomach.

"I have no idea. But I will try to break him of the idea if I can."

"Do not do anything outright. Try to control his mind so that you can make him believe it isn't true."

"Of course, my Lord."

"My Lord," Alize came up behind him, whispering to him. "May I be excused?"

He nodded.

She tried to appear calm as she left the room slowly, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could. Once out in the hall, she rushed off to find Devereaux, who immediately carried her up to her bed and laid her down for an examination.

She didn't stop panicking until she saw Ophiuchus moving around in her womb by way of the spell Devereaux had cast. Feeling foolish, she sank down into her bed to rest and try to relax, despite the pain, as she waited for Voldemort to finish speaking with Severus.

"Do not worry. All will be well."

Alize looked up as Voldemort walked in and rolled onto her side to reach for him.

He lay beside her. "Are you not feeling well?"

"Ophiuchus gave me a scare." She rubbed her stomach. "The bigger he gets the more I hurt. Sometimes it worries me."

"He is growing quickly."

"Very quickly." She frowned a bit. "He's larger than is normal at this point."

"Do you think there is a problem?"

"No…I think he may be developing quicker than normal."

"What does Devereaux have to say?"

"He hasn't said anything. I don't think he's concerned."

"Then this is good. Our son is big and strong."

"I know…I just don't want him to be born too early."

"Let us not worry if there is no need."

"You're right." She pressed her face into his chest. "_J'aime_…I love you both."

"I love you, too."

Alize's belief that Ophiuchus was developing more quickly than normal turned out to be true. Voldemort was able to feel his son's powerful kicks against his palm months before he should have been able to. Alize's belly swelled larger and larger every day as Ophiuchus grew by the second. By the time she was seven months pregnant, Ophiuchus was already the size of a full term baby, and moved within his cramped living space restlessly. On May 1st, two months before her due date, Alize awoke in the darkness and instantly realized she was in labor.

Bolting upright she gripped Voldemort's arm tightly as he slept, her nails digging into his arm.

"Voldemort," she hissed. "Wake up."

He jumped awake, calling for Devereaux automatically.

"It's too soon," she whispered, panicked as they waited for the Healer to arrive. "It's too soon…"

"Ssh…calm," he whispered back in Parseltongue. "He will be fine. We know he will."

Her lips quivered and she looked away, protectively cradling her stomach as Devereaux rushed into the room.

Alize labored hard for 48 hours but it seemed Ophiuchus did not want to be removed from her womb. It was strenuous and difficult for her and for Voldemort as he watched her suffer for hours with no end in sight. Devereaux tried all of his tricks to keep her calm, to ease her pain, to coax Ophiuchus out. He sank her into deep, hot baths, massaged her repeatedly, walked her around the room over and over. At one point he even took her outside to sit in the lake, hoping the cool water and the beautiful scenery, the smell of her favorite flowers in bloom, would calm her. Nothing seemed to work.

Near the end, she grew wild with the pain. She laid down in her bed, drenched in sweat, clawing at the sheets.

"You did this to me!" she shrieked to Voldemort, swatting away his hands. "I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!"

All in attendance glanced up at their Lord with pale faces, wondering how he would react to this disrespectful outburst.

He merely watched her calmly, murmuring soothingly in Parseltongue.

"No!" she screamed. "Don't give me that shit! Have you ever been in labor for three days? THEN SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

He looked up at Devereaux almost pleadingly.

"Alize," he said sharply. "Calm yourself."

"No I will _not _calm down," she said angrily. "Get him _out of me_!"

"Alize, he will come when he's ready…"

"I told you to shut up!"

Devereaux looked up at Voldemort. "She is making it more difficult for her body. She must calm," he said.

"What should we do? This is causing her immense pain."

"There is nothing I can give her that is safe for both her and Ophiuchus. Let us take her back out to the lake. That seemed to be when she was calmest."

He nodded. "I hope something will work."

Devereaux pulled an unwilling Alize to her feet and escorted her down to the lake. It was late in the evening and the stars danced overhead. Alize sank down into the cool water and immediately seemed to calm.

Voldemort waited anxiously for the baby to come.

"My Lord," Devereaux said. "Would you speak to him in that language again? He moves when you use it."

"I love you, Ophiuchus," he said in Parseltongue. "Come to your parents."

As Ophiuchus shifted about, Devereaux placed his hands on Alize's stomach, guiding him into the position he needed to be in.

"It is working," Devereaux murmured.

Voldemort took a deep breath. "I am proud of you son," he continued. He watched Alize's belly shifting as Ophiuchus moved, saw Devereaux's steady hands leading him down.

He smiled, filling with the love he had for both of them.

"He is almost there," Devereaux murmured.

Voldemort squeezed Alize's hand gently.

"Please, my Lord. Keep speaking. He doesn't move unless you are talking."

"Ophiuchus…I love you very much."

"There." Devereaux's hands fell away. "He is in position. It shouldn't be long now. You are doing excellent, Alize."

"Just a little more."

Alize reached for Voldemort with pale, sweat damp arms.

He held her, brushing her hair back. "So proud."

"I'm sorry I told you I'm going to kill you," she whispered.

"I have already forgotten."

"I'm sorry for telling you to shut up."

"It is alright."

"I'm sorry I told you I'd rather cut off your manhood than have sex with you again."

He smiled. "You are forgiven."

"He'll be here soon."

"I know."

"My Lady…" Devereaux looked up at them and smiled. "The head is coming into position now."

Alize licked her lips and her eyes filled with tears. As they began to spill down her cheeks the sky opened up to release rain in hard, icy torrents down around them.

He held her close as their child was born. The rain pounded down on them, soaking Alize's hair to her body as she strained. When Ophiuchus slipped from her womb, both mother and child screamed at the same moment, their wails rising above the storm.

"You did so well, Alize."

She panted, holding her hands, dripping rain water, out for her squalling son.

"I love you."

The rain dripped down onto Ophiuchus's face as he was passed to Alize but she shielded him with her body as she held him.

"My son," she whispered, staring down into his black eyes as he calmed and stopped crying completely. "He's beautiful," she cried.

"Absolutely perfect."

"The most…The most perfect," she sobbed.

"Let us take him inside."

Devereaux lifted Alize's exhausted, bloody body from the water and carried her into the house. He laid her on the soiled sheets of her bed long enough to clean up Ophiuchus and wrap him in a blanket for his father to hold before taking Alize into the bathroom to cleanse her body with a warm bath.

He looked down at his son with such pride and love. Ophiuchus looked just like him. He could see a little of Alize in the shape of his nose and the curve of his lips, but other than that, his coloring was exactly like Voldemort's, the shape of his eyes exactly like Voldemort's. Ophiuchus stared up at his father with an intelligence in those black eyes that didn't seem to suit a newborn.

"Hello, Ophiuchus," he whispered in Parseltongue.

Ophiuchus blinked, tilting his head back. His nose wrinkled as though he understood.

"You were very stubborn for your mother."

He swore the tiny baby smiled as he said that.

"You should apologize for that," he smiled back. His nose wrinkled again and then his lips fell into a pout identical to his mother's. "You're a beautiful little boy."

Now the child was downright scowling. Much too intelligent for a newborn babe.

Voldemort sat back on the bed, slowly, carefully stroking his child's cheek. "You're so big and strong."

Ophiuchus squirmed restlessly in his arms, and his head kept turning in the direction of the bathroom where he could hear Devereaux helping Alize bathe.

He stood, walking toward the door. As he drew nearer and could hear Alize's voice more clearly, Ophiuchus pumped his arms excitedly, reaching for the door with his tiny fists.

He smiled, stepping through the door. Alize was sitting deep down in the bath tub with the warm water raised up to her neck. She was resting, her eyes closed, but as they walked into the door, she looked up at him and smiled. At the same time, Ophiuchus repeated the gesture, with a nearly identical grin.

"Your son misses you."

Alize raised her hands as behind her, Devereaux washed the sweat from her hair.

Voldemort handed Ophiuchus to Alize carefully. She cradled him against her damp chest as she sat up, stroking his cheek gently. The little child smiled up at his mother and then pushed himself down her chest, seeking her breast to feed.

"He's quite intelligent."

"Isn't he?" she asked, helping him position himself to take her nipple into his small, puckered mouth.

"He is perfect."

She stroked the child's thick, black hair as he suckled. "He is," she whispered.

"He looks like me."

"Exactly like you."

"He is beautiful."

"I know." She grinned with pride as she stroked Ophiuchus's soft cheek.

"He is so big."

"For being two months early yes but he's exactly the size of a newborn babe," Devereaux said behind them.

"How did he mature so quickly?"

"I have never seen it before. Perhaps it is just excellent breeding," Devereaux suggested.

Voldemort smiled. "Excellence born of excellence."

They watched Ophiuchus feed in silence until he finished, and pulled away from his mother with a sleepy sigh, a small bead of milk on his red lips.

"Lovely little boy…I think he's tired."

As if to answer his father, Ophiuchus yawned, shifting against his mother's body.

"Take him," Alize whispered. "While I finish my bath."

He took Ophiuchus back to bed, lying with him. The child's little body settled warm and soft as his mother's against Voldemort's chest. He slept soundly, his tiny breaths the only sound in the room.

He smiled, holding him gently as he waited for Alize. It was Devereaux who appeared first, pulling the bassinet Alize's grandmother had sent her closer to the bed and making it up with black silk blankets to put Ophiuchus in. Voldemort stood and rocked his son gently as Devereaux replaced the sheets on the bed with clean ones, also pausing to replace the pillow cases and add two more pillows to the bed, before grabbing a new nightgown for Alize and taking it to her in the bathroom.

He lay Ophiuchus down gently, enjoying the way his beautiful son looked against the black silk and white bassinet.

He sat on his bed, watching him sleep.

Devereaux helped Alize from the bathroom to the bed, her red curls already brushed and braided down her back, then bowed as he left, whispering a soft congratulations. His exhausted wife watched her son sleeping for a moment, then settled down against the pillows and joined him in slumber. Voldemort wrapped his body around her, holding her as he fell asleep.

Alize had healed enough by the weekend to join him at Friday's meeting to announce the birth of their son. She sat down in her usual seat, holding Ophiuchus in her arms, wrapped in his black silk blanket.

Regulus smiled at the child. "He is perfect, my Lord and Lady."

Ophiuchus's black eyes blinked open at Regulus's voice. Looking up at him, the little child smiled Alize's smile.

"Beautiful," he breathed. Ophiuchus's face twisted into a dark scowl. He hated to be called beautiful by anyone other than his mother. Regulus chuckled. "He is quite intelligent, isn't he?"

"Extremely." They both laughed as Ophiuchus smiled at the praise.

"He is a wonderful son."

"Perfect," Alize said.

Severus bowed his head to them. "A worthy prince to a perfect Queen."

Ophiuchus puckered his lips thoughtfully at Severus, then reached up to grab a lock of his dark hair, studying it.

He watched the child, a glimmer in his eye as he smiled.

"Isn't he so smart?" Alize said proudly. "He knows your hair is the same color as his father's."

"He's incredibly smart."

"You both should take your seats before the others get here," she said, gently prying Severus's hair from Ophiuchus's fingers.

"Right. Congratulations."

"Thank you," she said softly, smiling as he walked away. Ophiuchus's eyes watched his mother and he smiled happily when she wasn't looking, then schooled his features into an innocent expression when she was looking at him. Severus and Regulus watched this and laughed.


	13. Chapter 13

"Excuse me, but is there room in- Oh, it's you…"

"Alize! You're back…I th-um…there's plenty of room in here…I promise to be nice…"

She eyed him suspiciously. "On your life?"

"Seems a bit much…but I suppose…"

"How else am I supposed to trust you?" she moved into the compartment and shut the door. "Excuse me, Peter," she said, moving to take a seat beside the strangest Marauder.

He gulped, looking up at her, apparently unaware that she was coming today.

"Excuse me," she repeated, her brow raised.

"Yes, m-A-Alize…right away…" He moved nervously.

"You just get weirder by the day, don't you?" she said, amused as she sat down beside him. "How was your summer?" she asked the group as a whole.

"We stayed at James's house…parties and the like…yours?"

She let out a small sigh. "I was stuck with my Grandad while Nanny went on vacation."

"So you really were in France?"

"For about a year now. Wish I'd have stayed here though." She crossed her arms over her large breasts, her cleavage peeking out over her slightly unbuttoned shirt. "I would've if I'd known there would be parties."

"You'd come to my party?"

Sirius couldn't help but stare, and was holding his tongue to stop an overabundance of inappropriate comments.

"I'm a party girl, or didn't I tell you that? Whatever. I love to dance and I haven't been doing much of it the last year." She crossed one leg over the other, her skirt riding up her thighs.

"Dance?" Sirius asked, his gaze following the movement.

"It's one of my favorite things to do outside of Quidditch. Honestly, it's where I got all my Quidditch moves from." She sighed, leaning back in her seat with her head tilted back, uncrossing her legs. From his seat, Sirius was able to see up her skirt just enough to catch a glimpse of her white panties.

"I'm sorry I missed the chance to see it."

"Padfoot, you're drooling…"

"Fuck you…"

"No, he's not kidding," Alize said, holding back a chuckle. "You've got something on your chin there…"

He wiped at his chin. "Lies…"

"No. Come here." She leaned forward to swipe at a spot beneath his lips with her thumb. Her luscious scent, freesias and rain, overcame his senses. And her breasts…God they were right _there_. He had an overwhelming urge to suck her finger into his mouth, followed by everything else on that luscious body.

"Thanks…"

"No problem." She leaned back in her seat and her scent slowly dissipated. "Well, there was at least one good thing about France."

"Yeah?"

"_Le français est la langue la plus sensuelle sur la planète. Êtes-vous d'accord_?" she purred in a flawless French accent, which was somehow deeply erotic, and maybe even the sexiest thing he'd ever heard.

"Um…yeah…I didn't understand any of that…All I heard was fuck me…"

"Sirius!"

"What? What'd she say?"

"She said that the language is…just ask _her_…" Remus blushed, sitting back.

"_Vous me comprenez_?" Alize asked Remus.

"_Oui j'ai appris le français de ma mère_."

"_Vous ne manquent jamais de me surprendre_."

He blushed. "_Merci. C'est une très belle langue_."

"_Plus_."

"Okay none of us can understand either of you…"

"Then you should probably learn French…It's not my fault." Remus smiled at her from his seat, his eyes bright. "_Je n'ai jamais rencontré quelqu'un qui la parle aussi magnifiquement que vous._"

"_C'est simplement parce que j'ai un joli visage pour correspondre à une jolie voix que j'utilise pour parler un langage assez._ "

He smiled. "You are remarkable, Alize…truly…"

"_Merci_." She smiled as well and looked at Sirius with brows raised. "Should I translate for you? Or would you prefer I say something just for you?"

"I don't know. But that must be the sexiest thing ever…It is _completely_ irresistible. That's a very handy weapon…"

Alize winked at Remus then leaned over in her seat to whisper as seductively as possible in Sirius's ear, her lips so close they brushed his earlobe again and again as she spoke, "_Vous êtes un dégoûtant, chien de chasse arrogant avec un ego plus gros que son pénis. La seule raison pour laquelle je tolérer votre présence parce qu'il est amusant pour moi de voir un homme à femmes comme vous deviennent tellement énervé et faible par un peu de désir. Si nous étions les deux dernières personnes sur la planète, je vous castrer si vous ne pensez jamais à l'utiliser comme une excuse pour s'accoupler avec moi. Fou pathétique_."

Remus pressed his hand to his mouth to hide his grin as Sirius licked his lip. "Damn, I love that…"

"_Voyez-vous comment tout à fait insensé que vous êtes? Permettez-moi de continuer à murmurer des insultes à vous doucement que votre corps se développe plus fort et votre esprit devient plus douce_."

"You get more and more desirable by the minute…"

Remus bit back his laugh, looking out the window, obviously amused.

Alize turned her head a bit so her lips now pressed against his cheek beside his ear.

"_Vous m'insultez pas. N'étais-je pas déjà assez désirable? Je suis beaucoup mieux que n'importe quelle femme que vous avez déjà eu ou auront jamais_."

Remus smiled. "_Tu vas le casser._"

"_Bon. Il a besoin d'être brisé_."

"I'm sorry…but if this continues much longer, I'm going to do something that you might regret later…"

She leaned back a little "_Je ne te laisserais jamais faire quoi que ce soit que je puisse regretter. Vous, d'autre part_ ..." She trailed off, swallowing at the look in Sirius's eyes.

He pulled her down into his lap, pressing his lips to hers. "I did warn you…at least I tried," he whispered against her lips.

She squirmed against his hold. "Let me go. Right now."

He jerked away, releasing her. "I…uh…I tried to be nice…but you teased me…" He grinned at her. "Will you ever forgive me? Wait, Moony…say that in French…everything sounds better in French…"

"_Je suis désolé c'est un connard _..."

"It's alright, it's not your fault." She moved so she was back in her seat beside a very pale, sweating Pettigrew.

He smiled, looking out the window again.

"Your…y-your grandparents…l-let you come back here this year?"

"They did. They said my time was better spent here than cooped up at home with nothing to do," she said in a cheerful voice so only he would catch her meaning.

He fidgeted in his seat. "But…Ophi-I…I mean…welcome back…"

She frowned at him warningly. "Thank you."

He gulped, trembling. _Please don't kill me…Please…_

"Did you hear about all of the strange things that have been going on?" James asked her.

She shook her head, turning away from Peter. "My grandparents have tried to shield me from the news since…since my father's death…"

"Well…after that…Snape's dad was killed by You-Know-Who…and then he got _married_…And a whole line of Death Eaters just appeared shackled to Mad-Eye Moody's door…"

"No kidding," she said in disbelief, leaning back in her chair. Once again Sirius caught a tantalizing glimpse of those white lace panties that were sheer enough to almost see through. Almost.

"Yeah, and Sirius swore up and down it was you. Said he recognized some heart-shaped birthmark on your arm or something…"

"Wrist," he muttered, tearing his gaze from her.

"What was me?" she asked, choosing to ignore the part about her freckle. "The person he married?"

"Yeah…and that you were pregnant…"

She arched a brow. "Do I look like I've been pregnant?" she asked, gesturing to her gorgeous body.

Sirius raked his gaze over her body at leisure. "Your breasts look a bit fuller…"

She leaned over and slapped him furiously across the cheek. "That's for being able to tell the difference." She slapped him again. "And _that's _for looking long enough to notice."

"I was just answering your question…"

"It's called puberty, you moron." She sat back in her seat, glaring at him. "They'll continue getting bigger as time goes on."

"Wow…I'd love to see that…"

She rolled her eyes and rose from her seat. "I see the conversation has come the point of deterioration. I'll bid you all good day before it gets any more ridiculous."

"Wait, I'm really trying here…you're making it very hard to be nice…"

"_I'm _not doing anything other than being me."

"I know…I'll try harder…Promise…"

She reluctantly moved to sit beside Peter again. He didn't look any better than he had earlier.

"You honestly thought it was me?" she asked Sirius after a moment.

"She looked just like you…even had your little scratch…right there…"

She raised her hand to gently touch the scar from where April's ring had dug into her skin while she'd tried to strangle her. A deep frown spread across Alize's face at the memory. "You really think _I _could do something like that?" she asked softly, almost sounding hurt.

"I thought you'd been…you know…Imperiused or something…maybe even threatened to be killed if you didn't…I don't know…"

"Well obviously I'm not," she said indignantly.

"I guess so…"

"You guess so?" She was offended now.

"I mean…I believe you…but I really did think…I was worried about you…and Snape wouldn't say _anything_…And that made me more worried…"

"Worried…"

"He's kind of evil…I thought he'd hurt you…raped you…Yeah I was worried…You're my friend."

She sat there staring at him for a moment and then smiled. "Well…thank you…" she said softly.

"Yeah, well…it's your fault for not owling me so I knew you were alright…" he mumbled, grinning.

She shrugged. "I was speaking only in French anyway. You wouldn't have understood a thing."

"Remus could translate…"

"Remus probably wouldn't want to."

"But he'd do it anyway…So it'd be okay to write in French because I'd understand eventually…"

"I'd probably translate it wrong on purpose just to have something interesting to do…"

Alize grinned. "My kind of guy."

He blushed. "Sorry…" he mumbled. "You seemed to have a lot of fun messing with him…"

"Doesn't everyone?"

He smiled. "_Belle, intelligente et drôle_ ..._ vous êtes vraiment parfaite_ ..."

"Now you're just flattering me," she said smiling. "Please, continue. I love it."

"What did you say?"

Remus chuckled. "_Vous avez les plus beaux yeux et la voix la plus sensuelle. Vous avez aidé des centaines de personnes avec vos potions. Vous avez l'air si doux, si délicat, mais je sais que vous êtes beaucoup plus fort que vous regardez_."

"Yes…" Something he said seemed to strike a chord in her and the smile fell from her face as she looked out the window thoughtfully.

"Sorry…" he mumbled, blushing.

She looked back at him and smiled again. "Don't be. You're being very sweet. I'm just…" she trailed off, glancing at Peter then back out the window.

"What made you decide to sit with us?" James asked her, curious.

"First compartment that didn't look full."

"Lucky us."

"Lucky you," she agreed in a soft murmur, then continued staring out the window until the train stopped.

Lily met up with them as they left the train.

"Where were you?"

"Got caught by Slughorn…he wanted to talk to me, which meant I got stuck in there until the train stopped…"

"Excuse me," Alize said. "Thank you for letting me sit with you, I enjoyed myself. Another time…" She took off, abandoning them there.

Sirius watched her, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. "Isn't she something?"

Peter let out a small sigh of relief. "Yes…sh-she is…"

"I don't want to raise our son like this."

"If you would like to come home, I will let you. It is up to you, my Queen."

"That's not what I meant." She paced into the room, casting a spell on Ophiuchus's crib so he wouldn't wake up from their voices.

"What do you mean, then?"

"Something Remus said… I used to care about people." She paced back and forth in front of Ophiuchus's crib, glaring at her feet. "I used to love with an open heart and it was…_beautiful_. I want Ophiuchus to love like that. I don't want him to only know hate."

"We love him. He knows this."

"_We _love him. But no one else does. No one else will. And he'll never get the chance to love anyone other than me and you."

"What would you like me to do?"

"I don't know…I wish I did." She sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed then buried her head in her hands.

He held her. "I want only to make you happy. If you asked I would call off the whole war for you. You know that I love you very much."

"You would give up everything you've ever fought for? Everything you've ever wanted? Just to make me happy?" she whispered against him, her breath stilling in her chest.

"Anything." He kissed the top of her head.

"Anything?" she asked again.

"Yes. I love you that much."

Her shaking hands lifted to clutch him tightly as she buried her face in his chest. Before she knew it she was crying uncontrollably, her body wracked with sobs.

He rubbed her back, holding her tightly. "Why do you weep?"

"Because…Because…I'm _happy_," she sobbed.

He smiled, pulling away to kiss her. "I love you."

"I l-love you too." She rubbed her wet eyes. "Would you truly?"

"Yes I would."

"I want there to be a world full of people Ophiuchus can love," she whispered. "Who can love him."

"I do not know how to bring this about."

"Has my love changed you?" she asked. "Have you noticed it making you kinder?"

"Yes. You have changed me forever."

"Are your dreams the same? To rid the world of half its people?"

He frowned "No."

"Do you still hate them?"

He thought for a moment then shook his head.

"Then what do you think you should do?"

"They will kill me…and you…and our son…"

She shook her head. "I won't let them touch him."

"Then they will hate him because he is mine."

"No one has to know. And even if they did…I don't think anyone would fault him for it. He didn't choose his parents."

"What would we do?"

Alize rose and moved to stare down at her son. Watching him sleep for the longest time, she eventually looked up at him and said, "You would have to die."

He nodded. "I understand."

"The War is Over."

"What happened…?"

"He died. They found his body and all the attacks just stopped."

"How did he die?"

"Probably a pissed off Death Eater…"

"It says he was incinerated."

"The reign of terror is over…it's almost unbelievable…"

"Everything's already changing. Everyone's come out of hiding. All the new rules have been lifted. It's like we're all safe again. Overnight."

"No one else will have to die…it's like the world is reborn…"

"Hey!" they all looked up as they heard Alize's voice calling to them from the Portrait Hole.

"Alize…can you believe it? It's over…"

"It's a miracle, isn't it?" She smiled, pushing the Portrait Hole open a bit. "We've got a new classmate."

They smiled as the tall, pale, dark-haired young man strode into the room, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Welcome to Gryffindor, mate. The name's Sirius Black."

He smiled, shaking his hand. "_Je m'appelle Augusten."_


End file.
